Origins Hillodania
by Azrael Heavenblade
Summary: In this story, the past of the sultry wood elven rogue, Hillodania, is explored. Past assumptions are broken as the truth behind her experiences and personality are revealed. Also, the truth behind her eldritch luck is exposed.
1. Default Chapter

Part I: Childhood- Thorned Rose  
  
It was a chilly, rainy morning for Faydwer. Rosace didn't really mind, as a druid, she loved the smell of the Faydark during a rain, the musty scent of damp wood, the pines' musk enhanced by the wetness bringing out their sap...but there were two people yet not awake to witness this event. Sighing, she tossed her long, flowing auburn hair back over her shoulders and walked past Epineux, who was busying himself with preparing more arrows for his next hunting trip, as well as some extra should he encounter any orcs. She opened the door to the bedroom they shared with their two children, and called into the room, gently but firmly, "Faerie? Pixie? I know you like to sleep in, but you've really got to get up soon, or you'll be late playing with the others!" "All right mother . . . " came the mumbled reply, as Lsanna sat up from the cot she shared with her sister, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Beside her, Hillodania simply pulled the pillow over her head and ignored the summons. Lsanna blinked blearily with large green eyes, and yawned widely. Hillodania started to snore again. Lsanna got up, and smoothed out her nightgown, her long brown braid swinging. Hillodania flipped over and continued dozing. Lsanna looked back at her younger sister after dressing with a smirk, and yelled quite loudly, "Get up!!!" Hillodania opened one green eye, matching that of her sister and mother, and without warning, leaped out of bed and stood in front of an astonished Lsanna, already fully dressed. Behind the pair, Rosace chuckled to herself, and started to prepare breakfast.  
  
"Wait, so how'd you get out of bed, get dressed, and ready for the day without waking me up?" Lsanna asked, confused, as they walked down the ramp towards the lower platforms. "I am practicing to be a rogue one day, y'know," Hillodania replied, plucking at the loose strands of flaming red hair escaping her braid. Aside from their eyes, both sisters looked almost completely different. Lsanna was already tall for her age, and fit and energetic, stronger than even some boys her own age, but was already proving to be quite a beauty, so the boys she beat in the games often let it go. She had never cut her hair, which she preferred to keep in a long braid, which would sometimes take nearly an hour to get together after washing her hair. She had a very calm manner, preferring to act as the peacemaker among their circle of friends, but she was a tenacious fighter if it came to that, though she opted to avoid most fights if she could. Hillodania on the other hand, was a tight bundle of energy, always out of control, and getting into trouble, playing pranks and making up outrageous tales were her forte, as she had chosen to follow Bristlebane, much unlike most wood elves, who worshipped Tunare. She had a deceptively innocent and cute face, and a wiry build, but her face was covered with a mass of freckles, which she hated bitterly. She hoped that they would disappear later, as her mother's had, but the kids always teased her about it, asking her if she was part human. Despite her agility, her build gave her almost a gangly appearance. Despite being as dissimilar as oil and water, Hillodania and Lsanna both watched out for each other, and each dreamed of one day seeing the world, as the many children of Kelethin grew prepared to strike out on their own once they reached adulthood.  
  
As they were almost down to the lowest series of platforms near the merchants, Guillame, a boy they sometimes played with, one they considered a bully more often, elbowed past them, shouting, "Watch where you're going half-elf! Your hair must blind you!" Ordinarily, they would continue down the path, but since the ramp was slick from rain, Hillodania had lost her balance, and was teetering on the edge of the ramp, still fifty feet from the forest floor. With a cry, she toppled over the edge . . . and caught on to a protruding bolt on the underside of the walkway.  
  
"By Tunare! All you all right?" Lsanna asked, fright choking her voice. "Yeah, just 'lucky' I guess, help me up," Hillodania replied with false bravado, as she looked down at the ground below her dangling feet and gulped nervously. Lsanna extended a hand, and her sister gripped it. Carefully, she pulled, and brought Hillodania back up onto the path...but slipped herself and landed hard on her shoulder, yelping in pain. "Lsanna! Oh no, it happened again! Are you all right?" Hillodania cried, kneeling next to her sister, who was sitting up and holding her shoulder, crying. With a grimace on her face, Lsanna pushed firmly on her shoulder and both heard a loud pop as the bone went back into the joint. After sobbing a bit, Lsanna finally responded, "My arm was dislocated, I think . . . It's back now, but it hurts like nothing else . . . I guess we can still count on your luck producing one bad result for every good one, right? Won't be able to practice with the bow today, but that's all right, just as long as you're safe." "I'm sorry . . . " Hillodania began, but Lsanna brushed it off and stood up without taking her sister's proffered hand and walked off towards where a mass of wood elven children were gathering. Hillodania watched her sister go, and tears started forming in her own eyes.  
  
She didn't mean for these things to happen, but ever since she was born, she had a strange sort of eldritch luck about her. She was unbelievably lucky, but whenever her luck gave her something good, something bad always happened to somebody else. It usually manifested itself whenever she was in danger, or any situation where she was involved in some sort of a gamble. Fortunately, the bad reflection was usually no worse than a equal but opposite result from the good side. Otherwise . . .  
  
"Hey, look, its Lsanna!""What happened to your arm?""Oh my, it isn't broken, is it?""What happened?""What was your good-for-nothing sister doing when this happened, or did she cause it?""It was most likely her 'luck' curse again!""It's not a curse, remember when she helped me win that book from the human bard?""Yeah, but do you remember how Jacquillan nearly had her eye put out by the bard's fireworks because of it?" A chorus of shouts and greeting greeted them, but most were aimed at Lsanna, and the few remarks for Hillodania were rarely kind. Covering her pointed ears, Hillodania made her way over to where Nixxius, her only friend was sitting on a box near the bard guild, where he was all but promised to go to when he was of age. He had long brown hair, put into a ponytail and tied with a bow by his mother, who often treated him like a little girl rather than a little boy. To tell the truth, he looked the part, with a very slight build, and thin, nimble fingers, but nobody really cared, because he was already good with musical instruments, and had a clear, beautiful voice. As expected, he was plucking at the small lute his father had made for him, practicing his chords. His blue eyes met her green ones, and lit up. "Hey there Pixie! How are you doing today?" he called, waving.  
  
Hillodania blushed, but waved and walked on over to him. Nixxius was also the only person she allowed to use her nickname, which she secretly liked, but didn't like the mischievous undertones it associated her with, which was quite paradoxical as she well deserved it. "Not so good," she admitted as she sat down next to him. "The others being their usual selves, huh? That's too bad, one day we're all going to have to count on each other when we go out beyond the guards," he said, sighing, as he carefully tuned the lute, and started again.  
  
Beyond them, the children were tiring of a game of chase-the-brownie, and Guillame had produced a bow, with real arrows, stolen from the ranger guild. Lsanna was scolding him for the theft, as she planned to be a ranger as he did, but he ignored her. He pulled an apple from his pocket and grinned at it evilly. "I heard of a story where the ranger guild-master, Maesyn Trueshot was so good, he once split an apple on the head of one of his students at two hundred paces! Well, I'm going to be better than he ever was, and I'm going to prove it!" he proclaimed, holding the apple high. "Well, that's impressive and all," Lsanna grumbled sarcastically, "But do you really think you can hit anything at two hundred paces, or even shoot an arrow that far?" Guillame frowned for a moment, then resumed his spiel, "Well, Trueshot had practiced for a while, and has a real good bow, so fifty paces should be good for me! Now all we need is a target . . . which should be provided by a certain red-headed trouble-maker!"  
  
Hillodania looked up in surprise as the crowd approached, and two burly boys, Pierric and Acier seized her arms. "What are you doing? Let go!!" she squealed, and started kicking wildly at her captors. "Guillame, don't do this! You can use a box or something, think of what could go wrong if you miss!" Lsanna cried as the mob swept down towards the lift. "Aw, shut up worrywart! Be good if I did hit the little flame-head, I still need to pay her back for the wasp nest she put in my vest!" Guillame called over her shoulder as the lift rumbled to life and started down the trunk of the tree. Knowing that it would take some time before the lift would be able to be called back up, Lsanna instead dashed off towards the Ranger guild, where she could find her father, and maybe even the guildmaster to help.  
  
Pierric and Acier pulled Hillodania against a slim pine tree, and held her head still while Guillame placed the apple on her head, to the cheers of his companions. He then carefully strode fifty paces away, each step taken with a grand flourish. At the end of the path, he strung the bow and notched an arrow. "Hope I don't miss, brat, since your hair matches the fruit so perfectly!" he jeered, as he took aim. Tears streamed down Hillodania's face as she struggled to break free, but couldn't call for help as Pierric's meaty hand was placed over her mouth. As Guillame drew back the string, Hillodania felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickle, the sign that her luck was working. Giving a last-ditch effort to escape, she bit down on Pierric's hand, causing him to release her, cursing, and she dodged forwards, as he bent over to catch her. Just at that moment however, the arrow was released . . . and hit . . . squarely in the middle of Pierric's forehead, the powerful bow causing the arrow to sink deep into the boy's head. His blood spraying on all three of them, he collapsed to the ground, right on top of Hillodania, pinning her beneath his corpse.  
  
Silence fell around the clearing, but was soon broken by the shouts of the adults as they approached. Guillame lowered the bow in shock, and the other children clung to each other in realized fear. They had done something very, very bad. Maesyn Trueshot was at the front of the group, along with Epineux Tapinois, Hillodania and Lsanna's father. Trueshot confronted Guillame, while Epineux rushed to Lsanna's side. "Thank you for coming and getting us Faerie, but what's wrong with your arm? You wouldn't tell us..." he asked her, going on a barrage of questions. Exasperated, Lsanna kept repeating, "Dad . . . . daaaad . . . DAD!!!" until he broke off and asked, "What?" "Dad, I'm fine, but we really need to check on Hilly!" she told him half in tears, and broke free to run to her sister's side. Her face streaked with blood, and her eyes glazed in shock, Hillodania lay sobbing quietly underneath the heavy boy, which Lsanna had some trouble lifting off her, until their father came over to help. Epineux lifted his youngest into his arms and stroked her hair, whispering, "It's all right, we're here now, everything's going to be fine . . ." over and over, but Hillodania couldn't stop crying. {You went to HER first, you didn't care about me, you went to her first . . . } the young elf thought repeatedly, even as she was carried back to the city, tears still staining her cheeks.  
  
"She's a menace!""Did you even see what that boy was trying to do to her?""What kind of monster could alter fate like that?""She's just a little girl!"" . . . Things like that shouldn't exist, its some plot by Innoruuk to . . .""How can you say that? Think of her feelings!""Lock her up, hang her from the nearest tree, set her on fire . . . we've got to do something!" The noise inside the ranger guild was deafening as the crowd of wood elves debated what to do about the most recent events. Maesyn Trueshot was at the head of the table, trying to keep order as points were raised for and against Hillodania, and Epineux paced nervously at the back of the room. Finally, the guildmaster stood up and shouted, "SILENCE!" Everyone quieted down and looked his way. "Good. We all know why we are here today ladies and gentlemen," he began, thunder emphasizing his words as the storm started in earnest.  
  
"The young girl known as Hillodania has been blessed...or cursed depending on your point of view with a unique gift . . . that of personal fate alteration. In its current manifestation, she transfers negative fate for positive, allowing her a beneficial outcome while harming another. While this may be regarded by some as evil, or some sort of eldritch curse, this ability has been documented among the annals of our history. Typically found among those who will become future Scouts of Tunare, this fate alteration is a conscious ability when its user is fully grown . . . it is unusual for it to manifest earlier but it has happened. As of now, the girl is unable to control her fate alteration abilities; it automatically exchanges probability without direction, often harming her allies more often than her enemies. We must therefore be patient, guard her well, for when this ability comes to fruition, she may very well become another hero of legend," Trueshot explained, and the other elders of Kelethin listened attentively and spoke quietly among themselves.  
  
"Can it be true though, Trueshot? This 'ability' has not been seen in centuries, millennia! Why now, of all times, for it to resurface?" the Heartwood Master demanded, still dubious of his colleague's conclusion. "There is a logical explanation for that, for one, it is soon time for the great exodus, for all the world's children to leave their homes and set out to discover the world, and two, is that this ability is apparently hereditary, isn't that right, Epineux?" Maesyn replied, turning his head to look at the other ranger. Hillodania's father looked up from his pacing briefly, then lowered his head and spoke softly in the new hush in the room. "That is correct, it is the secret of my bloodline, that which we have known for all time. Since the days of legend, the ability has never taken form beyond a simple extra balance of luck for an individual, and usually more present in the females of my family more often than the males. My . . . mother had it, which was when I knew of the possibility that one of my daughters could inherit the ability. Mother . . . she was always extremely lucky, everything went her way. . . but late in life, the ability reversed on her, which is why she has chosen to live as a recluse, so I still don't know everything about it, she never spoke of it in the home."  
  
"So, we put it to a vote, all in favor of allowing the girl to continue to live among us, and live out her life to the fullest?" Maesyn Trueshot asked, looking around at the solemn faces. Slowly, one by one, all hands rose . . . with the exception of one, Ombreux, Guillame's father. A well- established member of the community, he had earned great fame and fortune as a warrior in his youth, now, his son's chance at the same was being ruined by the fae wraith that they called a little girl. It was obvious no Feir'Dal or Koada'Dal could have that accursed luck . . . he would see to it that even if she lived, she would regret every second.  
  
"Is she ever going to wake up?" Lsanna asked, trying desperately not to yawn, as it was the middle of the night. Nixxius was looking on worriedly as well, his delicate features hardened into a more masculine looking expression of concern. "If I were her, I probably not want to wake up. You heard the grown-ups talking, they sounded angry, talking about what to do to her," he remarked, laying his head on his arms, staring at Hillodania, who tossed and turned on the bed they had placed her on, her now unbound red hair tangled and spread all over her pillow like a mass of flame. "Me, I feel sorry for her. She's tried so hard to fit in.that luck of hers hasn't helped . . . if only it would just stop making bad things happen for each good thing everyone would like her . . . All the boys think she's cute, me too. Also, if she would stop playing pranks . . . " he said slowly, but was cut off suddenly by Lsanna. "Wait a minute, I thought . . . well . . ." she stammered, blushing. "Don't you like . . . y'know . . . boys?" she finished, her face crimson. He smiled prettily, showing small, straight teeth. "Well, yes, but I like girls just every bit as much, I like everybody!" he exclaimed, laughing. Lsanna's face was still as red as her sister's tresses as she continued, "So, you...um, swing both ways huh?" "Nothing so crude as that, but yes, you have the right idea," Nixxius agreed, nodding. They both broke off the banter when Hillodania sat up suddenly, screaming.  
  
Hillodania was running through a black forest at night, but unlike most times, she couldn't see more than a few feet in front of her. And all around her, there were laughs and screams, smiles and grimaces, an unholy cacophony following her wherever she went. And every so often, she came upon the horrid spectacle of every one of her past luck backfires, even Lsanna's slip and very often, the arrow imbedding itself in Pierric's forehead, over and over, and try as she might, she could never avoid the crimson rain of his blood as she turned to run. Then, suddenly, she was awake, being held by two people, and she forgot where she was and screamed louder. It was only when she heard her sister's voice telling her it was all right, did she make an effort to calm herself down, and look around. The two people holding her were indeed Lsanna, and Nixxius. However, her room was otherwise empty, neither of her parents were there, and no other children were there to offer support. She had been crying the whole time she was dreaming, but this new spectacle only caused her to cry harder. "Nobody cares about me...Daddy didn't even care about me...nobody else came...Why? Why did I have to be born this...freak?" she sobbed. "Shhh, no one thinks you're a freak...its all right, Nixxy and me are here...it will be all right, just try to get to sleep, things will be ok in the morning . . . I'll sleep with you if that will help you calm down again," Lsanna comforted her, hugging her tight, and Nixxius nodded his agreement. Tears still pouring down her cheeks, Hillodania lightly inclined her head to signify that she agreed. Later that night, as the three of them lay together, she looked out the window at the night sky and thought, {They're wrong; things will never be ok again . . .}  
  
Part II: Late Adolescence- Pruned Rose  
  
Rosace looked at the mail that had been delivered by the bard this morning, and sighed. As the city readied itself to send off the novices later this afternoon, there were hundreds of notices being delivered, the bard guild was so full of mail that paper was practically pouring out the window. Not to mention all the guilds asking for money to help support the novices . . . As she sorted through all the scrolls, there were two things she was specifically looking for: her daughters' guild letters. Lsanna had applied to the ranger guild as expected, but Hillodania had stuck to her choice of the rogue guild, despite the fact that almost nobody else had chosen that class. Knowing the rough childhood her youngest had had, Rosace didn't blame her. There! Under the last of the entreaties for money, there were two letters, each embossed with the seal of the Faydark's Champions...and the Scouts of Tunare.  
  
"Mother! Did it come yet?" Came an elegant, calm voice from behind her. Turning around, Rosace saw Lsanna, now a young lady, in her traditional pants and halter, which she had received as a officially recognized adult only a week before. She had been wearing it almost non-stop since then, amusing Rosace to no end, but then again, she had done the same thing when she was about to go to her first training session. "Yes, faerie, it did. You better get going, otherwise the ranger guild will be filled to bursting and you won't be able to fit!" Lsanna giggled with delight, grabbed the letter off the table, and as an afterthought, hugged her mother tightly before running out the door, her unbound hair flowing out behind her.  
  
Shortly afterwards, Hillodania stepped out of the bedroom, rubbing sleep from her eyes. Also wearing traditional garb, she had taken more time to get ready, obviously dreading this day. Time had brought a great change to the young woman, mostly physical. Although shorter than her sister, she had developed into quite the heartbreaker, with a figure that even a few adult wood elven women could match. Her long-despised freckles had faded, and her face now had a natural beauty that was almost unrivaled, with rosy cheeks and deep red lips that now filled the dreams of many a young wood elven man. Unfortunately for most of them, Hillodania remembered their indifference to her in their youth, and was extremely cautious in her dealings with them. Rosace was still astonished at how much her daughter looked like her in her younger days, but somehow sadder, the mischievous spark of life that had animated her in younger days had been faded to be replaced by a brooding beauty, reserved and all vivaciousness hidden.  
  
"Well, was I accepted, mother?" Hillodania asked, in her husky, sultry, but somehow shy voice. "Yes, darling, you were. Take your time, I know today is going to be very exciting for everyone, but please, try to have fun today," Rosace told her, hugging her tightly and handing her daughter her letter. Their eyes met, and Rosace saw the deep sadness in her daughter's eyes before the younger woman broke the gaze, kissed her mother briefly on the cheek and walked slowly out the door. A sigh of compassion escaped her lips as Rosace gave a silent prayer to Tunare to lend some mercy to her troubled daughter.  
  
Hillodania made her way up through the twisting walkways of Kelethin, looking around nervously as butterflies twisted her stomach. {I shouldn't have been bluffing like that in front of mother, I really am excited about this, but what should it matter? I looked at the letter, only five other students are joining, five! And that's in progression, I'm the first, and only one for a while . . . probably won't even see any of my fellow novices until I'm in my eighth season . . . Oh well, that's good, I'm not so certain I want to see too many other people, at least for a while,} she thought to herself, going up yet another ramp. Though still a bit young by traditional standards, still a few months shy of her adulthood birthday, it was agreed that she should join the rest of the "first class" leaving to go adventuring. In recent weeks, her luck had gone almost haywire, going off constantly now, and fortunately, the bad effects were minor in comparison to the good effects, but it was becoming extremely frustrating to just live day to day.  
  
As she came up the ramp leading to the Scouts of Tunare building, she was surprised to see all the guild trainers, merchants, and even the guild leader, Tylfon, all standing in front, looking at her expectantly. As she got closer, they all started clapping. Shyly, she handed her acceptance letter to the guildmaster, and he took it and exchanged it for her new guild tunic. "Welcome to the team, Hillodania! Since you're our only student for now, we'll prepare you extensively for the wild and wonderful world outside of the city gates!" The only female trainer, Geeda, also came up and clasped her on the shoulder, grinning ear to ear. For the first in a long time, Hillodania started to feel welcome, but there was someone who was not too happy to see her. Expin, the last of the trainers, was standing off to the side of the building, glowering at the new recruit. He patted the bag of platinum given to him by Ombreux and silently went over his instructions. One way or another, that girl was not going to like her first few weeks, much less survive them . . .  
  
"Hilly, when are you going to come with us?" "You've been training there forever!" "You're going to get left behind, like you always do, if you don't at least get some real practice in!" "See if we care if you don't come!" Hillodania attempted to keep practicing with her dagger with Tylfon, but the shouts of her old childhood friends plus her luck going haywire caused her to miss her thrust, resulting in Tylfon going off balance, nearly tripping.  
  
"Patience, Hillodania, I'm not done with you yet. These children are being sent out into the forest almost as soon as they can hold their weapon without dropping it, little or no training at all, with the guilds as swamped as they are, since we have just you all to ourselves, I'm going to make sure you're sufficiently trained before you go out there," Tylfon told her, regaining his footing. Still, the words stung. She ran her fingers through her now unbound hair miserably, she so wanted to go out and bond with who was left of her friends, but there was also the strong impulse to stay and learn as much as possible.  
  
Expin grinned as the girls left. He knew that tensions would be high in Hillodania's family, as the pressure for their youngest to strike out on her own had been mounting for weeks. All that was needed now would be a little push . . . He walked across the series of ramps towards the girl's home, and knocked on the door. "Oh? Hello, master Expin, what can I do for you today?" Rosace exclaimed, surprised at seeing her daughter's trainer. "Actually, I came to see you both about Hillodania . . . can we talk?" he asked, waving briefly to Epineux as he stepped in. "What about? She's getting along fine in her training, isn't she?" Epineux asked, looking up from the news scroll he was reading.  
  
"That's just it, that's all she has been doing these past weeks. If she never goes out...it would have been better for her to find a husband and get married than to endlessly train for an adventure that is never going to happen. She seems like a . . . delicate girl. Her reluctance to leave would seem perfect evidence for that. She needs to be . . . protected. Such fragile emotions, she requires a strong man to defend her against this harsh world. Just consider my words," Expin continued, letting each sentence sink in for effect.  
  
Epineux and Rosace looked at each other worriedly as they headed towards the rogue guild. "Do you think this is right, dear? I mean, why would a rogue trainer want to send back one of his trainees unless she simply wasn't suited for life outside the city?" Epineux asked his wife as the Scouts of Tunare building loomed before them. "I don't know, while she has wanted this for so long . . . I think he's right. She just hasn't been happy for so long, it may be just what she needs to make her happy," Rosace replied, also uneasy. They walked in to find Hillodania and Tylfon talking, the young woman toweling off the sweat from her workout. "Mother? Father? What brings you here? What's wrong?" Hillodania asked, puzzled.  
  
"Well, you see darling, your father and I have been talking . . . You haven't yet left training for nearly three months . . . your sister has been out there for nearly as long on her own, and has been doing fine . . . What we're saying is . . . perhaps you're not suited to being an adventurer," Rosace told her daughter slowly, trying to keep her voice calm. Epineux added, "And we think that with how down you've been feeling, you should marry soon and have a husband if you aren't going to leave town . . . you've certainly got your pick of suitors . . . " But he was interrupted by a shout of dismay from Hillodania. "NO! You can't be serious!" she gasped, looking back and forth between her parents. "Its what's best dear . . . " Rosacé attempted to say, but Hillodania was already pleading with Tylfon, "Please, Master Tylfon! I'm ready to go! I'll come back and study when I'm ready to learn new skills, but I have to go now! Please, you must understand, I can't be bound here all alone . . . waiting for some man to return to me while all my friends are gone . . ."  
  
Tylfon held her shoulders while he told her, "Certainly, young lady. There's no need to cry," wiping away the tears that were starting to form in her eyes at the desperate fear of being left all alone again. "Though I wanted to keep you longer, I suppose you're past being ready to leave. After all, how will you test the effectiveness of your training unless you can put it to actual use? You start tomorrow, with a real dagger, not just a practice one," he said, receiving a grateful look from Hillodania and relieved ones from her parents. Outside, Expin grinned evilly, everything was going to plan, for Guillame still hadn't forgotten his punishment for that incident so long ago . . .  
  
{Its my birthday today . . . as well as my first adventure . . . what a good combination! If only my luck would give me a break, things would be perfect!} Hillodania thought to herself as she tugged on leather armor, bought at the vendor by Tylfon in honor of being the first student ever to leave their guild. She was excited and perhaps . . . happy, for the first in a long time. Unable to eat breakfast, she dashed out of her home without so much as a goodbye to her parents. "Well, she certainly seems livelier today . . . we made the right decision I think . . . " Rosacé murmured to herself as she laid down the plates for herself and Epineux, who chuckled at his youngest daughter's exuberance, so reminiscent of her younger days.  
  
"Pixie! You made it!" Nixxius shouted, waving to the young rogue from on top of what had been quickly dubbed, "Orc Hill." The grassy knoll had been home to several tents of orcs for years, but now the centurions and pawns were being put to the test by many young wood elves cutting their battle teeth. Hillodania blushed, and continued climbing up the hill. Nixxius had grown into quite the good-looking young man himself, but instead of being handsome, he was pretty, almost feminine in his looks. The girls loved him, but other men were uneasy around him. He had found a rusty bastard sword on a decaying skeleton in the Faydark, and had it sharpened by his father, who was a smith, and now the blade gleamed almost like new, though much of the tarnishing had been removed.  
  
"Sorry I'm late, have you been waiting long?" she said, a sheepish look on her face. He gave a silvery laugh and shook his head. He looked back at the pile of dead orcs with a disappointed frown. "These guys aren't offering that much of a challenge any more . . . me and my group are planning to head into Crushbone citadel itself soon, to take the fight to the orcs on their own turf, and we've got two openings, would you like to come with us?" he asked her. "Sure, I would like that," she responded, giving him a small smile, the first that she had given anyone in an eternity.  
  
However, their brief moment of reunion was shattered by squeals of surprise from the other side of the hill, and the howls of some unknown beast. Hillodania and Nixxius looked at each other briefly, drew their weapons and rushed over to his companions, but what they found was not what they had expected. Crouching near the open pack of a warrior who backed off in fear, was a young wood elven man...naked and dirty, strangely his long silver hair was shiny and fine, and his eyes gleamed like burnished gold. The girl whose pack he was rooting through whimpered and hefted her weapon uncertainly, not sure of whether or not to attack or stay back. The boy growled at her again, like a wolf, and continued looking, throwing away items like giant wasps' wings, bone chips, pixie dust, until he found what he was looking for. Lifting out the bread cakes, chunks of meat, and milk skins that she had been carrying, he proceeded to devour them.  
  
Hillodania kept thinking, {He's so much like a wolf . . . lean but muscular, those eyes . . . that hair . . . but he's half-starved, why can't he find food?} as she watched the bizarre spectacle. Truth be told, the boy looked rather wretchedly hungry, his ribs plainly visible, tearing into the bread and meat with a ferocity like none they had ever seen. Mustering her courage, the girl tried to take her pack back, but the boy snapped at her and she pulled away with a squeak.  
  
Nixxius scratched his chin briefly, then snapped his fingers when he got an idea from an old quote he had been taught at the start of his training, "Music sooths the savage breast." Taking out his lute, he started strumming a calming melody, and the wolf/boy looked up, alert, at the sound of the notes, but soon quieted down, not even concerned with eating anymore as he sat on his haunches and listened. The girl was even able to snatch her pack away, and he didn't do so much as blink.  
  
After the song was done, Nixxius walked up to the boy, and lowered himself onto one knee. "My name's Nixxius...what's yours, or do you have one?" he asked, keeping his voice calm and soothing as his song had been. The wolf/boy stared back at him, and coughed, trying to clear his throat, and started to speak, roughly at first, but after a few tries, he was able to make out a word, "N . . na . . . name . . . name, what . . . is . . . name? What . . . is . . . my . . . name? I . . . don't . . . remember." "He can talk!" the other person in the group exclaimed, the second bard in the group, his eyes open wide in surprise. At the sound of the other boy's words, the wolf/boy's head whipped towards him, and he started to growl again, but was calmed by a pat on the head from Nixxius. "Since you can talk . . . you were probably lost in the forest for quite a while . . . let's talk to the Heartwood Master, he knows more about what goes on in the Faydark then anyone else!" he proposed, and Hillodania nodded, but the other two exclaimed in unison, "We'll stay here!"  
  
"Really? Found him in the forest you say? Come here my child, I'm not going to hurt you . . . " the druid said, beckoning to the wild-eyed wolf/boy. The silver-haired savage hesitated, then stood up straight for once, and walked shakily over to the older man and crouched down next to him again. "Let me get a good look at you..." the Heartwood master murmured, holding the boy's face in his hands. After a few minutes, he looked at Hillodania and Nixxius and said with a bit of astonishment in his voice, "You found him! You found Lupus' boy! We thought he had been lost for good when his family was attacked by a team of Teir'Dal headed for Crushbone so many years ago. I can see in his eyes . . .he was found by wolves, and they raised him as one of their own . . . for he was born to be a druid, friend to all animals, his name is Lupin." Lupin looked up at the older man and repeated, "Lu . . . . pin. Lupin."  
  
We're taking him with us? "Well, yes. It turns out that he's a druid..." That figures . . .". . . And he'll act as our healer while in Crushbone." That's only if he doesn't eat us first . . . Nixxius attempted to explain the situation to the other group members while Hillodania busied herself trying to get the tangles out of Lupin's hair. After sniffing her for a while, he apparently associated her scent with someone friendly to Nixxius, so he was calm while she ran her brush through his long silver locks, though she still expected him to sprout a tail and wag it or something wolf- like. "So," she said, looking up briefly, "who's our final group member? You said there were two openings, and me and Lupin filled them, but besides you there's only two other people . . . who's the last one?" "That would be me," a cold malicious voice said from behind her. Guillame stood there, tall, dark, and handsome, but cruel at the same time, looking like nothing other than a storm cloud on legs. Lupin got to all fours and started growling again, but Hillodania was able to restrain him. She looked up at her former tormentor with a distrustful look, but she kept silent.  
  
Guillame didn't pay more than a glance to her, but it was in that brief look that she got a sense of deep anger and loathing . . . he had definitely been holding a grudge. He had risen to the top of the rangers that had gone out in the first wave, and was continuing to hold that position in their 'class'. Though, in order to get there, it was reputed that he had caused several 'accidents' to happen to his rivals. Luckily, Lsanna had been spared from his wrath, and was quickly approaching his station. He looked over his companions with his ice blue eyes, peering out from his dark bangs, and said, "Well, we'd best be off . . . that is if you can control the...pet puppy you've brought along." With a flourish of a dark cloth cape, he strode off towards the citadel. Lupin stopped growling, and spat a single word, "Hate." In this situation, it fit almost perfectly.  
  
Despite her misgivings, things seemed to be going well for Hillodania. She had been able to practice her pick pocketing skills on the orcs, as she had been unable to do so within the city, and she had found a decent dagger on one of the centurions. Guillame however, had been giving her dark looks from time to time, and a suspicion was growing in the back of her mind. After a nearly disastrous attempt into the caves after the orc slavers, Nixxius had taken most of the party to the entrance to the citadel for healing, while Guillame and Hillodania watched the caves to make sure their spot was held. Thanks to the rigorous training, and the recent hunting, Hillodania had reached her tenth season quickly. Still, Guillame had since gone into his thirteenth, and was far more experienced in combat than she was, though her luck had held, somewhat. Strangely enough, the bad reflections of luck had been decreasing in the past few hours, but she suspected that they weren't entirely gone.  
  
"So," she said after a while, playing with a lock of her auburn hair, "When do you think they'll be back?" Guillame didn't answer her question, but rather stood, and looked down at her where she sat, leaned against the slaver building. He pulled out his scimitar and leveled it at her. She let her hair drop from her fingers and she gulped nervously. "Do you know how many years its taken me to get back to any kind of good standing with everyone after I accidentally killed one of my friends because of you, flame-head?" he asked her in a low, fell voice, all traces of coldness in his tone gone, his voice as fiery as her hair. "But...you've been doing so well, don't you think that should be behind us?" she asked hopefully, drawing her dagger behind her back quietly. "No!" he exclaimed, his free hand balling into a fist. "Everyone always wants to take the good stuff away from me . . . you always did . . . I've fixed that though . . . all I have to do is kill my rivals . . . make it look like an accident . . . then all my troubles go away! You'll go away too, like a good little girl, won't you?" he growled, turning his head back towards her and advanced on her, raising his sword high.  
  
Her dagger came out from behind her back as swift as the wind, and the stroke that would have taken her head clear off was blocked, just barely, by her blade. She dove out of the way as a second slice whistled through the air where she had been a moment ago. Guillame growled in frustration, and whipped around, his dark clothing billowing. The ranger aimed a kick at her midsection, too fast for her to dodge completely, but she was able to roll with, and did a reverse somersault on hitting the ground, managing to come up in time to dodge another slash. The clang of steel upon steel echoed in the small valley as the two wood elves dueled, but it was swiftly becoming apparent who the victor was going to be. Hillodania's leather clothing was ripped and torn, and light cuts were all over her arms, legs, and torso. She was breathing heavily, and he was barely even winded. Their battle had been forcing them towards the lake where the river emptied out into down in the canyon. With another kick, he sent her to the ground right at its shore. "Now, your debt to me is repaid, bitch, die, so that everyone might live in peace you monster!" he crowed, holding his scimitar high over his head in triumph. Hillodania then remembered the dagger that she had picked up a short while ago, and she pulled it with her left hand, flipping it into a throwing position. Then, something happened . . . the bad feeling of her luck coursing through her changed, instead of heavy, it felt light, and energetic. Golden sparks began tracing their way across her vision, reflected on the surface of her eyes, and the hairs of the back of her neck started to stand on end...{NOW!} she thought as the sword started coming down. She threw the dagger with her left arm, which she had never thrown anything from before, but it turned into just the right shot as it sank deep into Guillame's ribs. His eyes opened wide, and the sword froze, as he stared down at the crimson stain forming on his black leather tunic. Without hesitation, Hillodania sprung to her feet and moved behind him . . .and plunged her dagger into his back. With a choking gasp, he fell, nearly pulling the dagger out of her grasp, and he fell into the lake, his blood dying the water red. Hillodania stood there shaking, holding her gore- slicked dagger as if her life depended on it, as cries of shock and dismay came from every direction as high elves and wood elves alike came down into the valley, having witnessed the duel.  
  
Later . . .  
  
Hillodania sat in the chair in the center of the building under harsh torchlight, trying to hold closed her leather tunic, which barely covered some sensitive areas after the fight. Around her, all she could see were the silhouettes of the pan-elven council, high elves and wood elves alike, their words blending together into a dull buzz. Nixxius stood outside the window, Lupin crouched next to him, growling softly at all the excitement. Lsanna, Rosace, and Epineux all stood at the bench with the three judges, Tylfon, Maesyn Trueshot, and Tarker Blazetoss of the Wizard Guild of Felwithe. The prosecutor, Ombreux, paced back in forth in front of them.  
  
Finally, he stopped and pointed an accusing finger at Trueshot. "Is this what you meant by 'let her live, grow, and develop her talent'? Thanks to her and her demonic 'luck', my son is dead, and the blame can be laid at her feet!" he demanded, turning the finger back to the young rogue, who covered her face with her free hand. Maesyn Trueshot thought for a minute, then responded, "From what we can gather from the few witness reports, it appears your son challenged her to a duel, and was about to kill her, when something amazing turned the tide. Apparently, her talent has come into full bloom, and it was by that luck that she is before us, still breathing. And your son is not entirely blameless in his own right, in fact, we've heard tales that the 'accidents' of his friends were in no way due to chance."  
  
"Aye, 'the eyes that glow golden with the blessing of good fortune' indeed. This is such a rare opportunity! Our records mention this gift as well . . . we of the Keepers of the Art find no fault with the defendant, what say you, Tylfon?" Tarker Blazetoss proclaimed, looking over at the guildmaster of the Scouts. Tylfon responded without delay. "In the time in which I trained her, I found Hillodania to be a delightful young lady, elegant in appearance and genteel in manner, I find it hard to bring the charges of devilry against her. The Scouts of Tunare find no fault in the defendant."  
  
Ombreux clenched his fists in fury and shouted, "What about my family? My only son is dead, and self-defense or not, my name will not live on, she deserves some sort of punishment, for if she goes free, you have my word that I shall turn my every resource to making sure that she pays!" Maesyn Trueshot's eyes narrowed, and after pondering for a few seconds, waved for him to calm himself down. The Ranger guildmaster stood, and faced Hillodania who looked up with a tear-streaked face to hear the verdict. "With all the facts heard, let it be that this council comes to the following verdict. Hillodania, Scout of Tunare, step forward." Shakily, she got up off of the stool and knelt before him. "We find the defendant . . . not guilty of murder," he proclaimed, and sighs of relief erupted around the room. Hillodania stared at the floor in disbelief, and in hope, but Trueshot continued, "However, we find it in her best interest to leave the bounds of the Faydark until such a time when bad blood is cleansed, and past events can be forgotten. It is there decreed that Hillodania, Scout of Tunare, shall hereby leave the Faydark tomorrow, in all haste, as our first scout into the world beyond our forest, and see what new adventures Norrath has to offer."  
  
There were a few tsks of disapproval, but everyone seemed to be in agreement. The council got up and left, leaving the room empty with the exception of Hillodania and her family. "Oh sweetie, I'm so glad things turned out all right . . . this is what you wanted, right? An adventure?" Rosace exclaimed, holding her daughter close. But Hillodania didn't hear her parents' soothing words, or feel her sister's hugs . . . one phrase kept repeating in her mind: leave the Faydark . . .  
  
The next morning . . .  
  
Hillodania pulled up the hood of her cloak as she gazed sadly at the city of her birth, then turned her back and walked slowly away from Kelethin, her home...She started walking faster and faster, until she began running, tears streaming down her face. {I'm all alone again...why does everyone have to leave me alone?} she thought bitterly as she ran. As she neared the canyon that would take her to the Butcherblock Mountain range, she dropped to her knees in despair. "I can't go on like this . . .I don't want to be alone...Why is everyone leaving me? Or am I the one leaving everyone behind? Bristlebane, tell me, why was I born to this cruel fate?" she cried, rocking herself back and forth. As her sobs eventually subsided, she looked up through tear-filled eyes to find a lacy handkerchief held out to her. Wordlessly, she took it, wiping her eyes as Nixxius sat down next to her. "I saw you leaving . . . so I grabbed my instruments and raced out after you as fast as I could. You're pretty fast, did you know that? I figured you'd need a friend in a moment like this," he told her softly, laying a soft hand on her shoulder. Without saying anything, she wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him tight. He held her just as tightly until she stopped crying.  
  
"You know . . . I've got a special talent that not too many people know about. It's nowhere as nearly as flashy as yours, but it's really unique in its own way. You see . . . I hear music that nobody has ever heard before . . . music that sounds like its from another world," he told her after a while. Hillodania looked at him and blinked, then asked him, "Wait . . . you mean you can hear music from different planes?" Nixxius ran a hand through his now shorter neck-length hair, and nodded. "Something like that . . . its like when I clear my mind and concentrate just right...I can hear the first few notes...then it gets clearer until I can hear the whole song . . . lyrics and all. Usually I just play or sing it like it is, but I bet I can write it down too perfectly. In fact, I was searching for a special song for you when one came to me in this fashion. Do you want to hear it?" he asked her, looking at her with his deep blue eyes. Her eyes threatened to fill with tears again, but she nodded back. He began strumming his lute, and after a few chords he began . . .  
  
I can see the light upon your face and then watch it disappear without a trace And yes when your body and soul close to mine My head starts to spin and my hands start to shake So is this a dream, or am I never awake? Stay, don't ever leave me lonely And I will gladly give my life To you, so please won't you stay?  
  
I surrender to your warm embrace I dream and suddenly I'm in an other place And yes it's a miracle I'm under your spell My heart is on fire, I have no regrets If I never find you I'll never forget  
  
Stay, don't ever leave me lonely And I will gladly give my life To you, so please won't you stay? Stay, don't ever leave me lonely And I will gladly give my life To you, so please won't you stay?  
  
My heart is on fire, I have no regrets If I never find you, I'll never forget  
  
Stay, don't ever leave me lonely And I will gladly give my life To you, so please won't you stay? Stay, don't ever leave me lonely And I will gladly give my life To you, so please won't you stay? Won't you stay? Won't you stay?  
  
Silently, he handed her a scroll, which she saw were the music sheets for the song. She embraced him tightly again, then stood up and ran down the canyon, seeing him waving for the last time as the Faydark faded from her vision.  
  
Weeks later . . .  
  
Hillodania trudged down the ramp into the depths of North Kaladim, tired, hungry, and dirty after spending long hours hunting bandits. Her newfound luck also seemed drained, she hadn't even seen the golden sparks in the last three battles. She hadn't gotten a warm reception from the dwarves, who seemed solely concerned with their own trainees or with mining and smithing. Some had looked twice at her, but most cared about her race and height more than her looks. She walked down the mine shaft, but forgot to duck and hit her head on an overhanging beam. She cursed in pain, her eyes shut tight, tears welling in the corners of her eyes. In front of her, she could hear a dwarf snort, "Amateur." Forcing her eyes back open, she saw that it was the dwarf she was looking for, a miner called Diggins. His name certainly suited him, as he looked as if he had been in these mines his whole life, his face as dark with dust and dirt as the cavern walls around them.  
  
"Well? I've killed a lot more bandits. Here's their tongues, now will you let me train?" She asked, hauling the tiny lumps of flesh out of her backpack and dumping them into the dwarf's fist. He weighed them for a bit with a cruel smirk on his face, then he pocketed them and shook his head. "No time, lass. Come back later, and kill s'more bandits while yer at it, hear?" he grumbled and trotted off into a side tunnel. She was about to follow him, but she didn't want to get lost in the tunnels, and there were rumors of collapses leading to the main entrance loop.  
  
It was raining when Hillodania stepped out of Kaladim, the cold soothing the bruise now forming on her forehead, and mixing with her tears of frustration. She hadn't found much to kill in the Butcherblock mountain range, and she felt so terribly lonely, with no other wood elves around. Even the few high elves here seemed subdued and withdrawn, there was nobody to talk to. Without being able to train at the rogue guild in Kaladim, her only option left was to take the boat to Antonica, but that would mean leaving Faydwer entirely. When would she see her family again? But there was little left for her here now, so she started down the path to the docks, walking quickly in the downpour. At the docks, she received a stare as cold as the freezing rain by Glorin Binfurr as she waited for the boat to arrive. When the young wood elven woman finally saw the boat emerge out of the haze, her leather was now drenched, and she was frozen to the bone. There was nobody on the boat besides her when she got on, so she hurried into the cabin and threw off her cloak. It was somewhat warm in the hold of the ship, so she pulled off her wet clothes and found a blanket to wrap around herself. She felt the boat lurch forward, and she ran up the ramp to the deck to catch her last glimpse of her home as it slid past the boat. She stood there, clad only in that heavy wool blanket as the shore faded from sight, shivering. Tears fell down her cheeks as she whispered to herself, "Goodbye, Mom, Dad, Sister . . . Nixxius." As she walked down to the hold once again, she started singing to herself, "Stay, don't ever leave me lonely . . . "  
  
She was strapping on the last of her leather armor when she felt the boat come to a stop. Curious, she walked up to the deck to behold a strange city of stone walls, dusty roads, and tall men walking around with purposeful yet shifty looks. Freeport. The weather was almost entirely opposite of the Butcherblocks, instead of aching cold despite the spring, it was almost hot here, the sun was shining down from the sky, although there was still a cool wind sweeping through the town. She stepped out of the boat and started down the dock. A human woman fishing at the edge of the dock nearly dropped her pole when she saw Hillodania's long pointed ears poking out from her cloak. A couple of men whistled appreciatively as she walked past, but most took one look at her ears and lowered their half-raised hands before hailing her. {They're so big! Only the tallest wood elven man could match the average man around here! Even the women are like giants! I used to think that high elves were tall, but this . . . where was that basement again?} she thought to herself as she walked towards the pub that she had been given directions to by Tylfon. She stopped outside the dock and looked around, she noticed the stairs leading down to a lower docks.  
  
An enormous man was fishing at the edge of these docks, even taller than any of the humans. He had to be a Barbarian, from the Northlands. He looked up from the bobber floating lazily in the sea, saw her, and gave a cry of shock and fell into the water. In embarrassment, Hillodania ran to the door she noticed in the side of the building, opened it and ran inside, closing it behind her. Calming herself down, she took a look around. She was in some sort of storeroom, crates, sacks, and barrels stacked all over the place. There were stairs leading down to a lower landing and she followed them down to the bottom of the basement. Brushing her auburn hair back from her eyes and curling it back over her ears, she looked around for the blank wall that Tylfon had described. There, at the back of the basement directly underneath the door was a cleared area lit up by a single torch. She walked up and stared at the wall, there was nothing to indicate a hidden entrance. Undaunted, she started poking various points on the wall with her index finger, biting a ruby-hued bottom lip in concentration. When she was getting to the leftmost portion of the wall, she felt her finger push the wall in, as if it were bricks attached to a heavy sheet. Mustering her strength, she pushed the section and a lit walkway was revealed. Stepping in under the sheet, she saw that the walkway led down a short flight of stairs to a wooden door, just as the Scout Guildmaster had told her. She expected it to be locked, but when she pushed on it, it swung open easily and silently.  
  
She stepped in lightly and looked around the system of caverns she found herself in. She could hear the faint lap of the sea from somewhere, and torches roared on the walls. A section of brick had been set up into a wall with another wooden door on one side of the caverns, and there was another tunnel leading downwards? "Hello?" she called hesitantly, and she heard quick rustling movement, but didn't see anything. She walked carefully towards the tunnel and called again, "Um, Tylfon sent me to see you guys . . . " Her ears twitched as she heard someone moving stealthily up behind her but she wasn't quick enough to prevent a dagger from looping around her throat. "Well, who do we have here?" a throaty female voice said, as Hillodania heard more steps pounding up the tunnel, her heart pounding, as she realized that she was caught. A dwarf and a shady looking man with a moustache and small goatee came into view as they exited the tunnel. "Well! A gin-u-wine wood elf! First time I evah saw woan, how 'bout yew Harkin?" the human man said in a slow drawl. The dwarf snorted, and replied, "Hmph, seen one, seen em all . . . though none as eye-catchin' as this lassie! So, what shall we do with 'er Nestral?" The woman behind Hillodania responded, "Well . . . wait, who did you say sent you again, girl?" "Tylfon . . . the guildmaster of the rogue guild in Kelethin, you know? He said I could train here if I got permis . . ." Suddenly she was released, and she turned around to face her previous captor. A bemused indigo face looked back at the wood elf and a cold feeling settled in her stomach when she realized she had been scant inches away from a dark elf, a Teir'Dal. "Harkin, Beur, take her to see Elisi, I'm pretty sure all she'll do is go over the rules and send her out on her first hit," she told the two men, and they seized her arms and started pulling her down the tunnel into another cavern, where another stone wall with a door stood, and pushed her through it.  
  
An attractive middle-aged woman with a scar on her cheek was sitting at a beaten-up fine-worked table, with a rumpled red-headed halfling glaring at everything right beside her. The human who Nestral had called Beur pushed Hillodania forward with a pat on her butt, and a wink, and told the older woman, "New recruit, ma'am!" The woman who was probably this Elisi person regarded Hillodania coolly, and she stopped twirling the dagger she had balanced on its point on the table. "So, you're from Faydwer, eh, little girl?" she asked in a rough voice, and Hillodania nodded hesitantly, gulping nervously. The human nodded to herself as if confirming something, then pulled her hand under her chin and rested her elbows on the table, leaning forward. "Before we get started, I want to make something absolutely clear. This ain't no 'steal-from-the-rich-give-to-the-poor' operation, no sort of fairy-tale floats the boat here missy, because hell, we ARE the poor here, and we take whatever is needed to fill our pockets, get it? You stay on your high horse, and you're going to piss off the wrong kind of people. As long as you're not afraid to get your hands dirty, you'll do fine," Elisi told Hillodania with a deadly serious look on her face. "Do you understand, kid?" Elisi probed further, raising an eyebrow. When Hillodania nodded, the halfling broke in, "Hey, wait! You can't just let a wood elf broad in just like that! What about our purity?" "What about it, Gren? We let you in after all," Harkin sniffed, and roared with laughter when the halfling shook his fist at him. "Enough! Nestral, you get her started by getting Rebby's shipment, the damn fool is late yet again, and tell him he's going to get his little halfling chopped off if he doesn't get his act together!" Elisi shouted over the hubbub, and waved Hillodania off to the dark elven woman.  
  
Nestral handed Hillodania a note as they walked up to the surface. "Ok, find the Ashen Order when you get into the city, near the bridge across the aqueduct, you'll find a halfling and half-elf standing near a wagon and two tents. Rebby's the halfling, all you need to do is hand him this note and bring back to me whatever his profits are, which I'm sure is not much. After we're sure of your loyalty, you can go out and explore a bit, you'll find that working with us is far more profitable than on your own," the dark elf told her lighter cousin as they got to the fake wall flap. "Welcome to the Coalition of Trade Folk, do your best," she said as she walked back into the darkness. As Hillodania lifted the flap to go, she thought to herself, {What have I gotten myself in to?}  
  
Hillodania waited impatiently while Rebby looked over the note, tapping her foot while she waited. The halfling twitched his moustache nervously while he rubbed absently at his throat, and indicator of what he was being threatened with possibly. After a few short moments, he rummaged around in his clothes and yanked out a single set of rat whiskers and plopped them into the rogue's waiting hand. "That's it?" she exclaimed incredulously, staring at the pitiful looking strands, all wrinkled and gnarled. "Yep, business hasn't been too good lately," he replied, coughing behind his hand, and his friend Janam snickered, but hushed up when Hillodania looked at him. "Figures . . . first time they send me out on a quest, it's a fool's errand . . . " Hillodania muttered to herself as she turned to leave, but the halfling overheard her, and with a wink, pinched her right butt cheek. She looked back with a yelp and Rebby quipped, "Guess there's a first time for everything, eh?" As Hillodania fled rubbing her abused posterior, he and Janam collapsed in laughter.  
  
Hillodania stalked down into the rogue's hideout and thrusted the whiskers at Nestral. The dark elf looked at them critically, then shoved them into her tunic with a sigh, and dug out a couple of coins for Hillodania's reward. Harkin, who had been walking past, peered in, and remarked to the young wood elf, "Ey, since ye've been up to Rebby's place, wouldja mind runnin a little errand for me? Oi've got a note that needs ta be sent ta Janam . . . he's the half-elf tha*" But Hillodania snatched the note out of his hand and stormed off. The dwarf shook his head, knowing what had likely happened and walked back down further into the cave chuckling.  
  
Over the course of the next few weeks, Hillodania was dashing all over the place, carrying messages. After a while, a group of young men began to gather along her usual routes to watch her run along, whistling and cheering. Hillodania was partially embarrassed by their attention, but she sort of enjoyed it, as few of her wood elven comrades her would have looked at her twice, having known her since childhood. It was likely because she was more exotic than the not-unsubstantial amount of attractive human women walking around, more so than just her normal beauty.  
  
Returning from her last assignment, Hillodania was about to ask for what latest note needed to be delivered, when Elisi stopped her. "We didn't take you on to be a courier, kid, if that's what you're wondering, we've got plenty of those. What we had you doing was meant to test your loyalty, to do some tasks without question, but the best rogue knows when to use her own judgment, and to fend for herself when necessary. Speaking of which, its time for you to start gaining experience out in the 'real world', so we can start sending you out on more difficult hits, and for that . . . well, c'mere," the older woman told Hillodania as she lead her to a storeroom and started rummaging around in one of the crates. After a while, she found what she was looking for, a Stiletto of the Bloodclaw, which she tossed to Hillodania. "That Dragoon Dirk you have there is plenty good for a novice, but where we'll have you going, you'll need some better tools," the guildmaster remarked as she resealed the wooden box. "Thank you . . . " Hillodania began, but Elisi cut her off. "Don't bother thanking me kid, that dagger was a gift from an old friend of mine, a dark elf now living in Najena of all places . . . its one of a set, she has the other. She gave it to me as a sign of our friendship, but I've got better now, and don't really need it. Now go on out and get outta here, and don't come back until you've got your surname. I'll have something better for ya then," she told the younger woman, then went back to her table to do some more figures. Hillodania nodded, then made her way out of the caves and out into the light.  
  
As she was making her way out to the Western gate, she noticed the usual peanut gallery lining up just like usual. As she moved past her usual route, they knew something was up and followed along, but that didn't stop their usual chorus of whistles, hoots and hollers, and suggestive comments. On a whim, she stopped by a upturned cart, shifted her weight seductively to one hip, pouted her lips, and jabbed her index finger at them as if stabbing them with a dagger, while blowing a kiss. All the men collapsed to the ground, clutching their chests in mock pain, but with big grins spread across their faces. Hillodania giggled and sashayed all the way out past the gate, causing the guards standing by the gates to turn their heads and watch her go. {I could get used to this,} she thought as she walked off into the rising sun.  
  
A couple of seasons later, she was not feeling as optimistic. Though she had done her teachers proud in combat, her purse was feeling decidedly empty. Despite pick pocketing the orcs wandering around the Commonlands, few of the merchants treated her well, especially the women, as if they were jealous of her looks. The men too, but only when their wives were looking on. There was one merchant here in the Western part of the Commons that was a widower . . . he was still fairly handsome, but she disliked going near him as he always tried to grope her. He had made sure to learn her name, and lost no opportunity at calling her 'sweet cakes' when she came by. Regardless, he was the only one that she knew would give her full price, but only if she did something for him in return. Her mind was made up . . . if it meant that to get her enough money to afford better equipment, so be it. She walked past a group sitting near the Dervish Cutthroat camp without even bothering to look at them, to see if there was any young men among them, as they would sometimes buy her something at one of the taverns. However, a certain young monk watched starstruck as she passed, the beginnings of a splendid moustache twitching as a grin began to spread across his face.  
  
As she came up to the inn as night was falling, she noticed a man being lead off towards the desert by another, darkly cloaked. It was none of her concern, but she recognized the man walking close behind the man in armor was Matrem, one of the older operatives, and following close behind him were a couple of his subordinates. The man had lost favor with Elisi for disobeying her commands and operating with the Militia, but he was still considered off-limits for the up-and-coming. With a sigh, she put on her 'game face', and sashayed into the inn. Luckily, the innkeeper was alone, the other two having shut their doors for the night. Pulling his graying hair back from his eyes, his face brightened when he saw her walking purposely towards him. "Hillodania, sweetcakes! What brings you here so late at night?" he asked suggestively, moving out from behind the counter. "Oh, I just need some things from you, that's all," she replied, sidling up next to him, brushing ever so carefully against him, her hand coming up to caress his grizzled cheek. "Really? Well, lets see what I can do about that..." he remarked, latching onto her, running his hands along her lithe frame. Hillodania desperately wanted to grimace, to pull away, but she forced herself to stay in the mood, repeating over and over in her mind, {Its just an act...its just an act...} He moved behind her and started to fondle her chest through her banded tunic, and her green eyes started to show the strain, but she was still able to keep her gaze on him. "Oh, so you like it like that do you, you big, strong man?" she asked him throatily. "Oh yes . . . yes . . . " he responded, utterly captivated by her. Her sensitive ears just then picked up the sound of the door opening, and a woman's startled gasp coming from the other side.  
  
Hillodania was about to break the whole thing off when she comforted herself on the knowledge that the innkeeper wasn't married, and the person outside was just another customer who got a tad more than they bargained for. "Now, tough guy, let's talk about those prices..." she interrupted, breaking the spell. The innkeeper was shocked partially to his senses, and replied, "Oh, what? Oh yes . . . right. For you, Hillodania, sweet cakes...the best deal in the house! Can only offer the max of what they're worth of course, business is business you know!" He grinned again, and squeezed her buttocks once more for good measure. This almost did it for her, but she returned his smile, and started unloading her things onto the counter as she heard the door close behind her.  
  
The stillness of the night in Rivervale was broken with a splash in a secluded part of the river, accompanied by a squeal of surprise at how cold the water was. Hillodania scrubbed furiously at her body, taking special care with her breasts and behind. Though she didn't mind younger, more fit men fondling her, that innkeeper was old enough proportionally to her to be her grandfather! At this point, she didn't care if anyone saw her, she just needed to get the feel of his hands off her body. {There has got to be some other way . . . } she thought to herself as she finished bathing.  
  
Now that she was in her fifteenth season, she decided that she would go to the Oasis of Marr, where she had heard was excellent for people close to her experience level. As she walked through the tunnel, she began to wonder what her parents...and her sister would think about her now. Lsanna might understand, but she was sure that her parents would have disapproved of her choices . . . mostly her dad. She knew her parents were still back on Faydwer, but she had no idea where her sister might be . . . for all Hillodania knew, she might very well be on Odus! She made her way through the Northern desert of Ro without thought, and only looked up when the smell of the ocean hit her nostrils. She walked along the beach, occasionally kicking stones into the water, as the sun beat down on her, heating her new banded armor up. In the sweltering heat, she almost didn't notice the docks in Oasis until she was almost upon them. She strode up onto the planks, and was about to cup her hands to her mouth to announce she was looking for a group when a voice from behind her made her stop dead in her tracks. "Pixie? By Tunare, is that you? You look well, how have you been?" Sure enough, when the rogue whipped around, there stood her sister, Lsanna, beaming at her.  
  
For a moment, Hillodania was unable to speak, as a mixture of surprise, joy, shame, and sadness churned within her at the sight of her beloved sister. "I..." she started, but broke off as Lsanna strode quickly towards her and clasped her in a tight hug. "Who would have thought our adventures would bring us together again? I had thought you'd be on Antonica far before me, and visiting the other coast of Antonica by now, but we're together again, isn't this great?" Lsanna exclaimed, pulling back to look more closely at her younger sibling. "Yeah...wonderful," Hillodania muttered, her gaze falling to the side. "What's wrong?" Lsanna asked, immediately alerted to something in the way Hillodania stood, her body language didn't match her speech, it was if she really wasn't glad to see her. But before she could probe further, a loud splash behind the pair caused them to look out at the end of the docks. An enormous barbarian warrior was hunched over the pier almost into the water, his head bent down right near the surface, his fishing pole abandoned next to him, and he was grunting and growling with exertion. With a bellow, he forcibly stood up, and the two wood elven women could see a fish clenched between his teeth, but on the other end of the fish was a full-grown deepwater crocodile. The reptile had chomped down on the fish's head, and the man had managed to seize hold of the scaly tail in his mouth before the croc had yanked his catch beneath the water.  
  
"Ursus! It's just a fish, let it go already!" Lsanna shouted at the warrior, exasperated, as she shook her head in disgust while the two behemoths engaged in a game of tug-of-war, the formerly fresh fish the prize. Not wanting to give his lunch up, Ursus began pummeling the crocodile with his fists, kneeing the animal occasionally in the stomach. Out of its element, it let go and slithered back into the water. "MMRHA! AHMPHA GHMPH!" Ursus crowed, his reward still clenched in his jaws, as he turned to face Lsanna, his eyes glittering in triumph. "Honestly, all that effort for fish you could have caught again in a few minutes . . . and now its got crocodile slobber all ove . . . YOU'RE NOT EATING IT ARE YOU?! By Tunare, what a disgusting man!" she exclaimed in revulsion as she walked up to the gigantic barbarian, as he devoured the fish, sticking the skeleton out of his mouth comically at the end, still grinning.  
  
Hillodania giggled at the display, and the fish carcass fell out of the warrior's mouth as he gaped at the rogue. Lsanna's eyes narrowed, and she pushed his jaw back closed, telling him, "She's my sister, so don't get any ideas, ok?" "Yeah, sure," he agreed quickly, but he still stared after the red-haired elf as she and her sister walked out into the dunes. "So, is there anything going on? You look a little bothered about something . . . " the ranger asked, resuming her questions, but Hillodania shook her head, and managed a smile, replying, "Oh, I was just hoping I would find a group to fight with here, as I'm having some bad luck fighting solo." Lsanna's face brightened, although suspicion still nagged at the back of her mind. "If that's all, we've got a group put together already, if you want to join us! Ursus is our warrior . . . if he can manage to stop eating for a few seconds that is . . . and the rest are currently sitting over near what's becoming known as Orc Alley, where a whole lot of orcs are patrolling, lets go!" Lsanna told her sister, and they both ran off in the direction of the wall of mesas, Ursus packing up his fishing gear and following them a few moments later.  
  
A small semi-circle of people were waiting for them on the hot sand where it was starting to get rocky as the Alley began. Mistii, Ursus' sister, was the shaman and therefore the designated healer for the team, and she was as dignified as her brother was uncouth, her long honey-blond hair dangling down from beneath a headdress of feathers attached to a leather cap. Joken, a human paladin, rounded out their fighters, but he was every bit as rowdy as Ursus, as well as an unrepentant alcoholic. A frail-looking but attractive middle-aged Erudite wizard named Mmya was their only caster, but she seemed to be doing a fine job of holding her own.  
  
Hillodania was received warmly by the group, but she swiftly discovered the reason why. Though Lsanna was only in her sixteenth season, the other group- members looked up to her as their leader and friend. Though she was every bit as attractive as her sister in her own way, the ranger held this charisma through her own kind, supportive personality, helping everyone to know their place yet feel as if they were part of a family, not just a temporary fighting unit formed out of circumstances. Looks and sex appeal had nothing to do with it, and suddenly Hillodania felt very empty inside. She had been using her outer beauty for a couple of years now to make her way in the world, and people had loved her for that, but never for the person underneath her skin, like her sister.  
  
One night, as the moon was hovering over the island in the center of the oasis, Lsanna found Hillodania sitting down by the lake's shore, rocking herself back and forth, crying softly. {Uh oh...I knew she was hiding something big...this is so not like her, she always used to tell me when something was bothering her,} Lsanna thought to herself as she clambered carefully over her other dreaming companions, being sure not to disturb Ursus, who pawed and growled exactly like a bear in his sleep. "Hey . . . " Lsanna whispered as she sidled up behind her sister on the shore, who had pulled her knees up to her chest. Hillodania didn't even look at her, tears just kept pouring out of her eyes as she kept rocking back and forth incessantly. Lsanna pulled her sister to her, encircling Hillodania's own arms with hers, pressing the younger girl's back to her chest, resting her head softly on top of the rogue's, just like when they were children. Hillodania just started sobbing harder, but after rocking with her for several long minutes, she began to calm down.  
  
After her tears had finally dried, Lsanna inquired as delicately as she could, "Now, will you tell me why you are so upset?" Hillodania remained silent for a while, but nodded briefly, and recounted the tale of her life after she had left the Faydark forests, up until this point, sparing no detail. Before long, Lsanna's own eyes were dry no longer. "Now, don't you think I've failed you, that I failed our parents' standards?" Hillodania asked bitterly, biting her lower lip in grief. "No, no, no . . . You haven't failed us at all, Pixie," Lsanna told her, fishing a lace handkerchief out of her pocket and drying her eyes with it. She went on, "While they might wonder when you would settle down, I don't think they would object to your using your physical charm to your benefit, at least you're not selling yourself cheap!" They both chuckled briefly, and Hillodania murmured, "True," morosely, before Lsanna composed herself and continued. "You could have friends if you wanted, you've just got to remember to treat them as you would want to be treated yourself, and you can't expect easy answers . . . its not like you're going to win them over in a few hours, rewards so quickly gained are also quickly lost. We're returning to Halas to get the spells for Mistii and training for Ursus, then on to Qeynos for Mmya's spells, if you want to come along, I think they could become your friends too, if only we could get the men to stop staring at your . . . " she told her sister, but she was interrupted by something small and hard being ricocheted off her skull.  
  
They both looked at the culprit, where it lay in the sand, dimly illuminated by the campfire. Absurdly, it was a peanut, still in its shell. A chittering noise echoed from above the two sisters, then the ruffle of palm fronds being shifted, and something scampering away. Hillodania looked sourly at the nut, recognizing the non-indigenous seed as the calling card of one of her 'associates'. She turned to Lsanna, and with a weak smile said, "Actually . . . something came up. I've got to go check on this . . . maybe when I'm done I can meet you there!", then hurried to pack up her stuff. "All right," Lsanna agreed, though mystified as to what put the formerly depressed young woman into overdrive.  
  
At sunbreak, Hillodania was looking into the trees in the southern region of the South Desert of Ro, shading her eyes from the sun with a hand raised to her forehead. She had been wandering around for at least half an hour looking for her contact. In her eighteenth season, she hadn't been expecting a contract hit to be coming this early, but was half relieved, half uneasy at this development. Out of nowhere, a cashew plummeted out of a tree and landed at her feet. Taking the signal, she leaped into the tree and bounced up the limbs to near the top of the tree. There, hanging upside down, chewing on yet another nut, was her contact.  
  
Tamarius Hudsonicus . . . a squirrel indeed! He chattered at her welcomingly, and she smirked a bit before grumbling, "Cut the crap, Tam, I thought I wasn't supposed to be ready until I got my surname before I was going out on hits." The half-elf finished his snack, then righted himself. "Well, yes, but Elisi felt your particular . . . talent . . . was needed for this assignment. Trust me, we're going to need it." Hillodania looked at him quizzically as he began searching for the mission instructions. Tamarius, or Tam as he was known, had been one of the poorest kids in Freeport, his mother having given him an aristocrat's name in hopes that it would make him stand out. It did...on the wanted list. For Tam was one of the most talented pickpockets who had ever lived, his skill at climbing up walls and trees to escape being only second in his list of attributes.  
  
"Here we go!" he exclaimed as he yanked a scroll out of his tunic, accidentally causing a bag of almonds to fall out, which he nonchalantly caught with a foot. "How many nuts do you have on you?" Hillodania deadpanned, looking at his bulging packs. "A few," he admitted, reading over the lines of the scroll. {He IS a nut himself,} Hillodania thought silently as the man stuck another cashew in his mouth as he read.  
  
Finally, he repeated the note to her, "Tamarius, you, Alic, Hillodania, Shanc, and Slitt are to infiltrate the tunnels of Guk and eliminate the Ghoul Assassin and retrieve whatever items it holds for analysis and distribution. As by our rules, NO non-humanoid rogues are allowed to survive, NO rogue is allowed to turn against us, and NO rogue shall withhold important equipment. Repeat, find this Froglock and eliminate it, retrieve whatever weapon, armor piece, or item it may hold." He snapped his fingers twice, and four men appeared out of nowhere. Hillodania had known they were there, she could hear their breathing with her ears, but she still jumped a bit. All four were rogues under the employ of the Coalition of Tradesfolk. Alic, a barbarian, Rodric, a dwarf, Shanc, a dark elf, and Slitt, another half elf. Shanc looked critically at Hillodania and remarked, "Not half bad..." Alic chortled, "Wonder if she's the reward for finishing the job right?" That earned raucous laughter from the group, and Hillodania barely managed to keep her calm. "All joking aside boys, she's really our good-luck charm on this trip, literally! This is a hard-core infiltrate and assassinate mission, and it'll be no joking matter making our way into Dead Side and out. Either we all make it out, or we all stay down there. No man...or woman gets left behind. The only way this rule gets broken is if you're dead certain you're the only person left alive. Then, you get the hell out. Got it? Let's go!" Tam told his comrades, and all six rogues faded into thin air, and all that could be heard was the rustling of leaves in the trees.  
  
Down in the tunnels of Upper Guk, Hillodania was feeling ill at ease. Ever since they had gone down into the tunnels, her 'luck' ability had been running nonstop. They had taught her Froglock while they walked so she could understand what the frog-men around them were saying. While the living Froglocks paid little attention to most of them, Shanc, being a dark elf, had to hide and sneak to avoid compromising the mission. Still, even though they had made it to Dead Side without any trouble, there was the matter of making it to the assassin's room unscathed. Tam had questioned a random Froglock knight on the way there, and had gotten directions, and had found out that vampire bats were down there, as they had surmised. Former ventures down into Dead Side by 'tradesfolk' had ended in tragedy due to the bats' ability to see through a rogue's invisibility. Hillodania then realized why she had been brought along even though the rogues accompanying her were at least twice more experienced than she . . . they needed her 'luck' ability to be able to avoid incident.  
  
After a tense swim through the murky waters in Dead Side and sneaking through the 'Bedroom', it was the moment of truth. The swarm of golden flecks tracing their way across Hillodania's eyes increased in volume, and as the bats fluttered around, a point came when they were all facing away from where the rogues were standing. Silently, all six rogues made their way past the cavern where the bats floated, and then they were past the danger. They still needed to keep hidden and sneak through each room, but any chance of them being seen until they reached the assassin's room was nil.  
  
Eventually, they made it to the ladder leading up to the assassin and supplier's room. The group had very little trouble making it up the ramp, but a daunting task greeted their eyes, as the ghoul assassin was accompanied by a shaman and a knight. Thanks to some potion Tam had distributed before heading down into the tunnels, they could see each other, though faintly. Tam held up two fingers, then pointed at a pair of his comrades, assigning them to a Froglock. He motioned for Hillodania to go with him and each rogue carefully positioned him or herself in back of each of the Froglocks. He and Hillodania were with the assassin, the others had followed their targets exactly. After a motion of the old one-two- three, they all dropped their stealth simultaneously and plunged their daggers or spears into the spines and hearts of the undead Froglocks. It was tactics as old as the profession . . . each pair went after two specific locations on the body . . . one to the heart, the other to the spine, to prevent further motion even if they survived the strike to the heart. Thanks to Hillodania's luck, all three Froglocks dropped quickly. Tam's quick hands rifled through the corpse and found what they were looking for: a serrated dirk made of bone, and an unusual looking mask, which supposedly had the ability to cast an illusion on the wearer. They were just about ready to leave, when they heard a loud, "Froooooaaaakkkk!!!" An astonished ghoul supplier was standing at the top of the ladder. "Plan B!" Tam shouted as the rogues went into motion.  
  
In quick succession, each rogue vaulted over the stunned undead creature's head and down the ladder. Now, it was a game of capture-the-flag. As Froglocks moved to attack them, they would randomly toss the loot from one to another, the rest dodging and weaving among the horde. It was working perfectly, as they split in two to further confuse the Froglocks. It was then that Hillodania abruptly collapsed. Though she hadn't realized it before, her ability took a vast amount of energy to maintain, and she was flat out exhausted. Still, since she was relatively light, Tam picked her up and they started to move again when they heard screams from up ahead and it hit them like an avalanche. Slitt, Shanc, and Alic's luck had just run out in the vampire bats' room. The sight that greeted them was grisly. Alic lay collapsed on the floor as the bats swarmed around him, and the other two rogues attempted to force them off him. Meanwhile, the train of Froglocks had caught up. Tam waved for Rodric to try and help as he made his way up to the Bedroom with Hillodania stirring in his arms. When he got there, there were still several Froglocks aligned against him. Knowing what he had to do, he flung Hillodania over their heads and into the water, where she came to with a start, and attacked with both daggers drawn.  
  
For a moment, Hillodania treaded water, unsure of what to do, remembering Tam's earlier instructions, "Nobody leaves alone unless you are sure that you are the last one alive." She felt the dagger and mask tucked into the front of her tunic, and realized that she was the last 'link' in the capture-the-loot chain, if she left now, she could make it out with their objective, but she wanted to stay and help...But she was only in her nineteenth season thanks to the assassin...she would last all of five seconds here. Against her heart, but following her instincts, she faded into the shadowy water and swam away. The splashes she made left a small grin on Tamarius' face even as the last bits of light faded from his sight.  
  
Elisi's face was like a hurricane when Hillodania explained the events of the past day, holding the dagger tight in her fist. For a minute, through tear-filled eyes, she worried that the human woman would kill her for violating a mission objective, but the older rogue just sighed and tossed the dirk to her, and started to cross the team members' names off the roster of operatives. "Ma'am?" Hillodania asked hesitantly. "Blast it, I knew we should've accounted for a contingency plan...but who knew that your talent needed energy to maintain? For all the things to be overconfident about . . . rassumfrassum" she grumbled, but then broke off as if remembering something. She lifted a smaller scroll out from under the mess of papers on the table and read it, sighed, then looked back up at Hillodania. "Do you think you could possibly go back to Guk right away?" she asked, an odd look in her eyes. "Yes! I have a feeling at least one of them made it! Is there another mission dealing with that dungeon?" Hillodania exclaimed, trying to sound enthusiastic, but inside she was terrified of going back there. "Well," Elisi explained, "We got intelligence that the frogs had gotten ahold of some sort of treasure from a merchant caravan while your team was in there, and were dragging it back to their lair just as you left. What we want you to do this time is filch it, you yourself, as this doesn't involve fighting this time, the bags for it are in the corner, same room as last time." She then fell silent, not even asking for the dirk or mask back. Hillodania walked over to where the aforementioned bags were, and picked one up. The odd material seemed to make things lighter inside of it, and she wondered, {What could I be going in there to pick up?}  
  
Hillodania's heart pounded as the second squad of troll Bashers passed her, grateful to the magical effect of the mask she had gotten from the Ghoul Assassin, which transformed her appearance into that of a dark elf. She had been thoughtful enough to bring along a mirror, and she was glad to see that she was every bit as attractive as a Teir'Dal, but it was only her new indigo skin that kept the trolls from doing more than looking at her suspiciously. She would have been breakfast otherwise, as wood elves weren't treated as nicely as their darker cousins by the green-skinned behemoths . . . as relative as 'nice' could be with the predatory hulks that were rumored to be even cannibalistic, having none of the small sense of society that ogres had. Ogres, though having even more potential to be vicious than trolls, sometimes were good-natured, if stupid. She had met a couple ogres that had treated her fairly, though she found them absolutely hideous.  
  
As she neared Guk, she saw the reason for why there were all the patrols; undead Froglocks were dashing back into Guk, pursued by trolls. Carefully, she followed them in, but as she moved into the hall, the illusion wore off, and she very nearly was spotted by the trolls, but the combination of live and dead Froglocks was keeping them busy. Melting into the shadows, she waited until they diverted off into a side passage, and made her way back down the path that she had taken earlier, inwardly thanking herself for paying careful attention to the route they were taking. She knew that there was little to be afraid of in here, as the live Froglocks, although distrustful, didn't bother her, but some of the large spiders that lived in the tunnels were mean, and she had to avoid those.  
  
As she went into Dead Side, she was shocked to see that the trolls had beaten her to the lower depths, and she had to swiftly fade once more to avoid being spotted. Their battle was taking them to the underground stream, and she was able to easily join the swarm of battling bodies as they sank into the water. It was only when she got to the 'Bedroom' that her mind started to fill with horror. The vain hope that Tamarius had lived was shattered as the trolls, victorious for a moment, noticed the half- elf's disembodied remains strewn about the room decided to make a snack of them, and the scouts who ventured into the room of the vampire bats returned with the corpses of her other comrades, and unable to stand the sight of them feasting on the carrion, she fled back to the surface, not stopping until she was back into the muggy air where she screamed out her anguish and regret, much to the surprise of the Froglock guards who had returned to protect against any more trolls entering.  
  
She returned to the Southern Desert of Ro with a heavy heart, and she leapt up into a tree not far from the ravine leading into the swamp and perched on a branch halfway up. She looked at the Serrated Bone Dirk and the Mask of the Deceiver with a sick feeling in her stomach. Five people had died permanently for this? Still, she had a job to do, but how to do it? Despite being near to impossible to see short of magic vision thanks to her skills, if she was felt by any of the trolls patrolling down there, or by any of the undead Froglocks, she was as good as dead . . . what she needed was to move quickly if need be down there, and she would only be able to do that with a invisibility to undead spell, avoiding the trolls would be child's play if she could just get past the creatures they were hunting.  
  
Just then, she heard voices down below her, and caught the tail-end of a sentence, " . . . this is it . . . " Looking down from her perch, she saw the most unlikely pair of adventurers she had seen yet. A young human man clad in banded armor was looking towards the ravine leading into the swamp, he was certainly not very much more experienced than herself, likely less, as his gaze contained what she thought was overconfidence, and more than a bit of naïveté. His partner however, was an ogre warrior girded in plate armor, and since he hadn't eaten the human, who was evidently a paladin, he was hopefully one of the more pleasant ogres. Still, the two of them had little chance if they ran into a roving squad of bashers in the swamp. Against her instincts, she decided to get involved, as the paladin might mean a free ticket into Dead Side.  
  
"You're not planning to go into the swamp, are you?" she called down, fading into shadow as she did so, gathering her feet under her to leap down. The paladin immediately looked up, and squinted, trying to pick her out among the branches, but he obviously couldn't now that she was hidden, so she decided to have a little fun, and hurtled down so that she was right in front of his face, and reappeared. The man was so startled that he fell backwards with a yell, and she giggled to herself at how easy it was, her assumptions were thus far correct. "Oh boy, you're not going to make it two feet into the swamp if a little girl like me can cause that kind of a reaction," she commented sarcastically, enjoying the indignant blush of the human and the bellow of laughter from the ogre, and she rocked back and forth on her heels whimsically.  
  
He was handsome, she admitted, but looks weren't everything, and by the looks of his equipment, he was either committed to a vow of poverty or he wasn't blessed with rich parents or friends. That, and he was so flustered by her that he probably didn't even have a girlfriend . . . so disappointing, she hoped that his fighting skills would make up for what he lacked in other areas.  
  
The paladin glared back at the ogre, who was still hooting with laughter, and got up, dusted himself off and looked her directly in the eye. Oh good, he was brave at least . . . and, she noticed with interest, he had hazel eyes, a trait she had never before seen in humans. He was obviously irritated by her trick and taunts, but he showed good restraint in not full- out glaring at her, as she gazed back with false innocence. Still, he demanded haughtily, with all the pretension she expected from a paladin, "Ok, who are you, and what do you mean, I shouldn't go into the swamp? I'm nearing earning my surname you know, and there's nothing in there on the path I'm taking that I can't handle." Yup, this was going to be all too easy. She replied, "The name's Hillodania, and do you really think you can take on a full squad of Troll Bashers?" leaning back against the tree she had been resting in earlier, trying to put on a show of indifference, polishing her dirk absently.  
  
Unexpectedly, instead of getting angrier, his expression became confused, and he removed his helmet and scratched his head, and asked her, "Bashers? What would they be doing so far from the city?" Mildly disappointed that her ruse had slipped a bit, she answered him anyways, "Something's got them all spooked, supposedly there's been raids by undead Froglocks into Grobb itself, but I can't trust my informant as far as I can throw him." {Its too bad my informant is dead . . . } she thought sadly as she went on, "I followed them back in on one raid, and that's where I picked this up," she lied, showing them the dirk briefly before tucking it back into her belt. "Well, that's precisely where we intend to go, we could probably take care of any live Froglocks, and I have an invisibility to undead spell for the undead ones . . . but we really need a guide, would you be willing to help us?" he asked predictably, stepping closer to her, his brown eyebrows raised in expectation.  
  
Who did this guy think he was? No offer to pay her? "What's in it for me? It's either love or money, and you're probably too inexperienced to fully satisfy me, or so I take it since you seem to have never even seen a girl before, and I'd sooner walk naked into Neriak than make love to an ogre, so it's gotta be a rather hefty payment," she said with a smirk, causing the young paladin to blush furiously, and the ogre warrior stopped laughing. Good, now they were riled. "Well, I think you'd be rather surprised at just how good I am, but that's not the point. The point is, me and Giantt here are going to retrieve a hoard of gems from inside Guk, and in return for your services, we'll let you take a share, how's that sound?" the paladin returned heatedly, raising one eyebrow triumphantly, confident that would turn her attitude.  
  
And did it turn! So that was the mysterious shipment Elisi had told her to retrieve! She knew she could earn quite a bit of money from this venture now, and her mind was set. She stuck her hand out and exclaimed, "Hillodania, Scout of Tunare at your service!" After a quick haggling over the share of the hoard, the trio of adventurers moved into the hazy swamp. As they moved into the swamp, her sharp ears picked up the conversation of her two male companions. The ogre, Giantt, was whispering to Azrael, the paladin, "Heee . . . yuz almozt tought yuz got lucky dere eh?" Azrael elbowed the warrior ineffectually in the gut and Giantt once again roared with laughter, as they followed her deeper into the swamp.  
  
"This is the entrance . . . " Hillodania whispered back, squatting a small ways from the dark tunnel, where two bored looking Froglock guards stood watch. "Ok, so what are we waiting for?" Azrael replied quietly, hefting his axe and sliding his Qeynos Guard Kite Shield onto his left arm. "Nothing, walk along that wall, but keep out of sight until I get the first one, if we do this right, we can down both of them before they can sound the alarm. From that point on, we'll have to rely on stealth, which is going to be extremely difficult because our large friend here hasn't bathed for days, and sounds like a drunk hill giant when he walks," she replied, ignoring the glare sent her way by Giantt. Without a word, she faded away from sight, and made her way over to the closest guard. The Froglock guard shifted from the leg he was resting on to the other. He reached into a pouch on his waist and pulled a live cricket from it absently and popped it into his mouth, giving a small rabbit of satiety. He was about to go in for the change of the guards when he felt a ripping pain erupt in his back, near his left shoulder, and his vision went dim as he collapsed to the ground soundlessly, his blood fading quickly into the wet ground. His comrade looked up at the soft thud the corpse created, and a swell of alarm grew in his chest, but before he could croak an alarm, the silvery war axe of the paladin beheaded him smoothly.  
  
"That was easy," Azrael commented, picking up several coins off of the guard he had slain, while Hillodania appeared from thin air to loot her own kill. {Confident as always,} she thought to herself, amused, as she pocketed the coins. Abruptly, her ears perked up as she heard the sound of many heavy feet padding towards them and she hissed back to the paladin, "Get into the mangroves, now! Take the ogre with you!" He didn't pause to ask why, thankfully, but simply dived into the water and swam under the roots of one of the trees. Behind him, Giantt pulled his bronze cloak over him, and since it was caked with mud from the dirty travel, he appeared to be nothing more than another bulge on the hillside.  
  
Glad they were able to follow instructions, many men weren't, she hurriedly donned the mask and activated it, hoping she wasn't too late. A gold spark flickered across her vision, and the illusion settled over her even as the first of the trolls lumbered into view. "Look, itsa one of da dark elfie wimmen! Heya toots!" one of the trolls called out, leering lustfully at her. "Try it, and I'll have your ears for bra straps dimwit!" Hillodania replied coldly, replacing her former mischievous tone with a deadly contempt typical of the Teir'Dal. The troll's grin faltered, and he broke his gaze and looked towards the two dead Froglocks. "Well, we no be needin yuz to help wit killin de froggies, so unless you want to be dancin for us laters youz best be movin along now hey?" he muttered, and with a wave, he and his companions lumbered off, with a round of flatulence announcing their departure.  
  
Despite her readiness for it, she still gagged on the stench, and as she turned to her companions, she could see Azrael clutching a wet rag to his face in an attempt to block out the smell. Giantt, of course, was unperturbed. "Told you we'd run into a patrol sooner or later," Hillodania commented, her usual voice sounding strange coming from her new throat, making it seem unusually musical. "Let's just get in there before I die from the smell," the paladin mumbled through the rag and practically ran past her into the tunnel, followed by Hillodania and Giantt.  
  
As they entered the dimly lit hallways of Guk, they tensed, anticipating more guards, but surprisingly, the posts were empty. From somewhere in the depths, they heard happy croaking and the clink of steins as evidently, the Froglocks were celebrating the fruits of their conquest. They wandered through the slick maze, until they heard the sound of footsteps. A very drunken Froglock came around the corner, his webbed feet flapping on the damp stone. Without a sound, Hillodania grabbed him and pulled him into an alcove. {{Where's the treasure?}} Hillodania asked him in Froglock. {{Eh, wha tre sur?}} he replied, his voice slurred by drink. {{The gems fool! The gold, the platinum, that's what!}} she replied heatedly. {{Oh*hic* tha trezur, iz in ded sid, *hic* in da as asin room,}} the Froglock hiccupped, and he then began hiccupping very loudly, prompting the wood elf to slit his throat before they were discovered. "Well, now we know where it is, good thing I 'disposed' of the assassin, otherwise I wouldn't have my dirk, or my mask. I don't like it here, things are too quiet, I'll kiss you if you can really get us through this alive," she murmured back to Azrael sincerely, her information now confirmed. She was a little angry with herself, for her normally glacial calm was broken, her voice quivering in spite of her attempt to hold it steady, her eyes looking as worried as she felt. Azrael came up behind her and squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. Surprised, she looked up into his eyes and saw true sympathy there, he hadn't been fazed by her act at all . . . had seen past it in fact, and that scared her. He smiled gently at her, genuine warmth in it, and while her own nonchalant smile slipped further, she felt almost . . . comforted by his presence.  
  
As they moved into a room made up of many small stone pinnacles with boards laid between them, Hillodania waved for them to stop, her ears twitching, as she heard almost silent scuffling sounds, as if someone or something was trying to mask its presence. Azrael looked around warily, but couldn't see anything threatening. The rogue moved her hand slowly around the room, her ears moving constantly, trying to discern the location of the noise. When she found it, without warning or preamble, she pulled a throwing knife out her serpentine bracer and threw it in the direction of a darkened hallway, where they heard a gasp of surprise, but the knife never reached its target. She heard the hiss of a sword being drawn out of its scabbard and a silver flash of a blade struck the small dagger and it was deflected into a wall. Another hiss, and a dark elven man stepped out into the open, holding two katanas at the ready. {Of course,} she thought to herself as he crept closer warily, {Only a dark elf can hope to be as silent as a wood elf, too bad for him my ears are as sharp as ever.} "I'm impressed. There aren't many who would have seen me there," the warrior remarked, moving into the torchlight, giving her a good look at his face. Not good, this guy knew his stuff.  
  
Beside her, Azrael tightened his grip on his axe, but Hillodania pushed it down with her left hand, not wanting to set the dour man off, keeping her right on her dirk, her emerald eyes warning him off from any further action, but his own green eyes told her that he could handle it. Nevertheless, she turned back to the dark elf and asked, "Ok, what are you doing lurking around here? I'm pretty certain it's not for the beer and girls right? You want the treasure, you're going to have to do it without us, cause the paladin here is our only means of getting through there unnoticed, because even if you are a rogue, there's still the vampire bats to consider," Hillodania told the dark elf, her ears still twitching, ready for any more trouble. Suddenly, they focused sharply on a side corridor. She, and everyone else turned to look down the corridor as the flapping of a dozen webbed feet carried down to where they were standing. "Oh, great! Just what we didn't want!" Azrael grumbled as the first of the Froglocks ran into the pinnacle room and threw itself at him, but missed because it was obviously still very drunk, and fell into the depths. "That's it! They can't hardly stand up straight, keep at it!" he called over his shoulder as several more came at him. With a couple trips and bashings with his shield, the other Froglocks fell to their deaths. Only two made it to Hillodania, who just stepped aside as they charged her and fell off.  
  
As they moved past the room into the next hall, the wood elven woman looked around, confused. "Now where were we?" Hillodania remarked as she turned back towards the dark elf. "Being killed, intruder, frooooaaakkk," came a voice from behind them. All four sets of eyes turned to where a Froglock commander stood with eighteen Froglock knights, all stone cold sober. "This isn't good . . . . " Hillodania muttered, pulling her dirk and stiletto silently. "Well, we were expecting this right? Let's have at em!" Azrael whispered, as the first knight ran up to him, only to be met by Azrael's axe. With a chorus of angry 'Froooaaakkk's', the battle was joined.  
  
Azrael was pressed back to back with Hillodania as the remaining six Froglocks stood staring at them, as if not sure who to attack first. "Three on left, three on right?" Azrael asked, pointing first to himself and then to Hillodania. "Sounds good to me!" she replied, as gold flecks traced their way across her vision, vaulting into some handsprings which landed her directly behind the Froglock knight second from right. With a quick stab from her dirk, the Froglock went down with a limp grab at her, which missed and latched onto his comrade's arm instead, pulling the croaking Froglock after his corpse. She ducked under the third knight's sword as it whished past her head, and just for spite, jabbed her stiletto directly into the crotch of the chain mail. With an extremely high "froooaaaakkkkk" it went up on its tiptoes, keeled over, and fell into the abyss.  
  
Relieved at how easily she had gotten off, she noticed that Azrael had dispatched the rest of the Froglocks, slaying the last one with a masterful stroke of his initiate sword. She remarked in amazement, "I didn't know you could do that with your novice weapon!" {He can be useful, can't he? What a waste though, with that personality of his? Too gallant for me, I sure hope he hasn't taken a vow of chastity too!} she pondered as she looted her only reachable kill, and wanting to even the odds, she looted one of Azrael's, ignoring the whine he cast at her. She grinned at him, but only half heartedly, and she grimaced half to herself as he shrugged it off, he was getting far too friendly for her tastes. The three adventurers met up in the center of the room, and with some quick heals, they were ready to go again. "Thanks for the help, even though it wasn't needed, have a nice day!" Hillodania called back at the dark elf, as they hurried towards the Dead Side entrance, hoping to lose him.  
  
He was still following them unfortunately, as she heard his stealthy footfalls behind them. Still, they had an ace in the hole he didn't, as she looked at Azrael expectantly. With sparkles of light coming from his hands, Azrael cast the Invisibility to Undead spell on all three of them, causing them to fade slightly. "Oooh, tingly!" Hillodania commented quietly, a giggle escaping her mouth as she gazed at her semi-transparent hand, looking rather girlish and innocent. "Let's go, Hill, you lead the way." Azrael whispered. She blushed slightly at the nickname, but rather than letting it get to her, she accepted it.  
  
After passing several decaying Froglocks, they passed through several corridors until Hillodania brought them to a halt again. With a point, she alerted them to the vampire bats which hovered inside a open area ahead of them, the only creatures capable of seeing past any invisibility spell or skill. Carefully and quickly, they ducked into a side tunnel without evoking any notice. Hillodania shuddered involuntarily as they passed another undead knight, inwardly hoping that the spell wouldn't wear off before they reached the treasure. As they entered a series of narrow hallways, the wood elf went over to a ladder coming down from a ledge and began climbing, and Azrael and Giantt came up after her, but unlike her light step, the ladder creaked and groaned under their weight, but luckily the undead Froglocks took no notice. Hillodania pulled herself over the lip of the ledge and peered into the torch-lit room. "Oh my . . . . " she murmured, as a glorious sight revealed itself to her, her voice catching in her throat as she pulled herself up to the blissfully unoccupied room.  
  
In a pile at the back of the keg-filled storeroom, there was thousands of gems, and beside it, dozens of gold and platinum bars stacked in haphazard fashion. Hillodania raced over to it, her eyes glittering with equal brightness, and she pulled the odd backpack out from under her cloak and began shoveling the gems and bars into it. Not wanting to be left out, Azrael dashed over to take his share, as did Giantt. As they scooped the riches into the bags, he finally could stand it no longer and whispered over to the rogue, "What kind of bags are these?" Amazed at his ignorance, she hissed back, "The ones we all have? They're bags of sewn Evil Eye, y'know, the weird eye creatures that wander through Runnyeye Citadel and the Beholder's Maze? They make carrying things a whole lot easier, only mages can summon bags that make things totally weightless," sealing her own shut as it was filled to the brim, and began to fill a trio over very large bags tailored from bear skin. Azrael nodded, and fastened the clasp on his own bulging sack, and pulled out a couple of his own backpacks. A few minutes afterwards, the pile had shrunken to nothing, and Hillodania was still searching around on the floor, finding gems that had been shoved into corners or cracks in the floor.  
  
"Come on! We got all that we'll ever need, let's just get out of here!" Azrael whispered, coming over to grab her shoulder, obviously impatient and worried. {{Oh, I'm afraid it's a little too late for that, human,}} came a hollow voice from behind them. Whirling around, they saw an undead Froglock wearing a crown, and several more standing guard. "How can they see us?" Hillodania asked, her heart leaping into her throat, as she looked at the paladin, only to answer her own question by noticing that Azrael was very solid looking, the spell had worn off while they were busy gathering their hoard.  
  
They were seized and dragged down the ladder and down further into the catacombs into a room where several cages were bolted into both ceiling and floor. Their equipment was torn from them, even as their armor was, but the Froglocks knew her from before and paid especial attention to her. As if to add insult to injury, they didn't simply just take her armor and weapons, but her halter and pants were stripped off her as well, exposing her naked body to the damp air. She cried out in anger and in embarrassment, but they didn't care, she was thrown into a cell just the same.  
  
*SLAM* The rusty gate closed with a bang, sealing the three would-be millionaires in cages too small to hold an ogre comfortably, but Azrael and Hillodania had a reasonable amount of room, if they stood up that was. The Ghoul Lord stood outside their cages, looking through their weapons and gear, which had been taken from them. She noticed in red-faced shame that they still had their skivvies at least, and were now looking over at her, and she tried to hide her breasts and fiery-hair covered sex the best she could. It seemed more shameful to be seen by Azrael than by the ogre, after the kindness he had shown her. He gazed over Giantt's and Azrael's equipment disinterestedly, but when he came to Hillodania's things, he stopped cold. Lifting up her dirk and her mask, he stared at them with his hands shaking, then he turned and marched straight up to the bars of the wood elf's cage, and gazed in at the stark naked rogue with a look of utter hatred, his reeking breath causing her to gag in between attempts to cover herself. {{So, it was you who did in my Assassin . . . that takes skill, elf. Since you seem to covet these so much, you'll be in charge of training his replacement, and he can have his way with you any time he wants as part of your punishment,}} he croaked, spitting a rotten piece of meat that had fallen off of the roof of his mouth at her feet. He looked back towards the other two adventurers, who glared at him with even greater intensity than the gaze he had fixed Hillodania with.  
  
{{Rather poor choice of mates if I do say so myself,}} he muttered, before flapping off. {Speak for yourself!} she thought darkly as he disappeared from sight. Azrael pulled at the bars, but it was no use, even Giantt couldn't budge them. The human collapsed to the floor, looking over at the blushing Hillodania, "Sorry about your clothes, they let us keep our basic stuff at least," he said quietly. {You just had to say it, didn't you?!} she thought indignantly. "Well, we'll just have to figure a way out of here I guess, got any plans?" he asked after a while, but he knew as she did, that few would be forthcoming.  
  
A few hours after the shambling remains departed, whispers of a chanted spell began to fill the air. A horde of tiny, phantasmal humanoid forms, each no larger than three or four inches and clearly recognizable as pixies, shimmered into existence. They swarmed the room, quickly overcoming the guards before they can make a significant amount of noise and begin gathering around the cages. A High Elf stepped quietly into the room and signals to the pixies, who quickly weaved webs of magical silk around the cages and begin to exert their might, straining against the weight of the cold metal. With their combined strength they lift the cages just high enough that their occupants can escape, then set them gently to the floor again. The high elf covered his nose with a white handkerchief, and exclaimed, "That rotting, undead fool really ought to have stayed dead." He turned a speculative eye toward the former prisoners. "Greetings, I am Constellation. I came here originally seeking a magical robe rumored to be in the possession of a particular shaman inhabiting these caves. Perhaps you would be willing to assist me in exchange for my aid?" he proclaimed, looking at them hopefully.  
  
"You're going after the Arch Magi? That takes some guts, but first, you have to help us get our stuff back," Hillodania said, standing up and keeping an arm over her private areas. Azrael walked over to where she was standing and removed his shirt and handed it to her, and she put it on with a look of genuine gratitude. It was big enough to cover the necessary parts, but she would have to find her gear sooner or later if she was to engage in anything more vigorous than walking to maintain her decency.  
  
Hillodania peered around the corner into the Ghoul Lord's room, and saw their bags and equipment lying near his throne, which was occupied by the undead Froglock himself. "I can go in and get our stuff unseen, but it's going to look weird if things just start vanishing, Constellation, can you create a distraction?" she whispered back to their growing party. "A distraction?" the mage murmured, thinking for a moment before he grinned, and told them, "Get ready."  
  
The High Elf began to chant and gesture. Suddenly large balls of mud come slinging out of the darkness on the far side of the cave, splattering the face of the undead Froglock, followed by insults, more mud, and a few rocks. A trio of halflings stepped out into the cave, smile brightly, and take off running in the opposite direction of the party. The Ghoul Lord heaved himself to his feet and chased after the halflings, followed by all of his guards, leaving the bags unattended. Hillodania rushed immediately over, picked her pants and halter out of the pile and slipped them on under Azrael's shirt, and when she was decent, she pulled it off and tossed it back to the paladin, where he was busily pulling on his banded boots. After a few minutes, all three were completely dressed, and had the bags of treasure tucked securely under their cloaks. "All right, now let's go find the Arch Magi," Hillodania said, stretching slightly before heading off into a side hallway.  
  
Azrael peered into the room, and saw a Froglock wearing a strange purple robe studying a few books, weaving spells occasionally. "Ok, I'm afraid you're pretty much on your own in the case of the battle here, I don't think any of us are skilled enough in comparison to defeat him; but we'll stay outside in case you get into a tight spot," Azrael whispered back to Constellation. Giantt set himself up to one side of the hallway as lookout, and Hillodania took the other while Azrael stood immediately outside the room, waiting.  
  
"Thanks. He shouldn't be too much trouble, it was simply finding him without having to search the entire city of Guk that was the problem," Constellation responded, briefly consulting his spellbook, then began to cast his spell. Mist flowed outward from the walls, forming into a massive, vaguely humanoid figure. The Arch Magi only had time to scream once before he is crushed by the mist walker's titanic fist. Constellation quickly retrieved the robe from the body, placed it into a satchel, and smiled with satisfaction before turning to Azrael. "Ready when you are," the mage told the human paladin, the need for silence no longer necessary. Or so they thought, because right then the dark elf from before strolled into the room casually, katanas still in hand and staring straight at Hillodania.  
  
"So here you are. I lost you for a while back there." He paused for a few seconds. "So where's that treasure? You've got it, don't you?" He pointed his katana toward the group, and demanded, "Give it to me." Before any of them could give their reply, a croaking voice shouted, {{Wrong! She shall give it to us!}} All five of them whirled around to see the Ghoul Lord with no less than thirty undead knights and shamans accompanying him. {{You should be a little more quiet if you're going to be killing my servants, froak! We could hear you from across the entire catacombs!}} he croaked, his eyes glowing with yellow fire. "This . . . . isn't . . . . good," Azrael muttered, taking a page from Hillodania's book, as well as a few steps back. {{Attack!!!}}  
  
Hillodania's heart just about stopped as the wave of Froglocks rushed towards her, and her gift went into full action, her sight turning nearly golden with all the flecks coalescing across her eyes. The others blocked a good deal of the horde, but she was still left with seven knights, each twice as experienced as she was. Time seemed to slow downed as a flurry of blows rushed towards her. She barely managed to dodge the first wave, but there was too many of them, they were too skilled, and her body was just too weak, and more and more strikes connected with her frame, cracking ribs and bruising her tender innards. She coughed up blood as she desperately tried to counter attack, and while heartened by seeing two fall to her daggers, the remaining quintet had renewed fury at taking her life. Above the din of croaking and cries of effort and pain, she heard Azrael shout, "Hill, I'm coming!" She briefly turned her gaze over the shoulders of her assailants and saw him trying to make his way over to her, but he was worse off than she was, for blood too seeped out of his lips, and countless other wounds covered his muscular body. "I can't hold on much longer," she cried truthfully, but a blow to her mouth silenced her, bringing her attention back to the battle.  
  
She was fully ready to die when she heard something she never expected. "It's da dark elfie lady! Charge!" came a rambunctious cry from somewhere beyond the crowd, and the rumble of many heavy feet filled the corridor. The same troll commander that she had seen earlier rounded the corner with seemingly all the guards from Grobb. The Froglocks, their most recent quarry forgotten against the more familiar one, charged the trolls, freeing Hillodania to slump to the ground with blood pouring out of her mouth and her faced bruised almost beyond recognition, and allowing Giantt to lift himself out of the press of the undead bodies, himself not much better. However, the dark elven warrior was carried along with the crowd of Froglocks and was lost in the chaos of the renewed battle. "Run!" Azrael yelled, and his companions needed no instructions.  
  
When they were back at the surface, they could finally relax. "Whew, dat was ruff," puffed Giantt, sagging to the ground outside of the entrance to live side in the Innothule swamp. What little mana Azrael had left he spent on healing his and the others' wounds, and after a long time, Hillodania managed to say, "Um, thanks for your help," between gasps, looking over at Constellation. Constellation nodded and smiled his most gracious and charming smile. He told her, "My Lady, it was a pleasure. However, other matters needs must claim my attention. I wish you and your companions well!" He then began to cast a spell, and moments later there was only a set of footprints to indicate that he once stood there.  
  
"So, I guess it's back to Freeport we go to find that gem merchant," Azrael said after he had caught his breath, casting an aside look to Giantt, who nodded at first, but then scratched his head and commented, "Ey, wut was dat guy who sell shinie tings name?" Azrael began to reply when he realized he didn't know either. Behind them, her beauty restored by Azrael's healing spells, Hillodania was going through one of her gem bags, her eyes aglitter as she sorted through them, whispering their names under her breath, "Topaz, Peridot, Ruby, Sapphire, Jade, Pearl, Pearl . . . ooh! Black Pearl! Star Rose Quartz, Malachite . . . gravel? What's that doing in there? Oh well, Hematite, Lapis Lazuli, Lambent, Emerald . . . "  
  
Shaking his head, Azrael wandered over to where she was sitting, and squatted down next to her and asked, "We're going back to Freeport to sell these gems to a merchant, who'll repay us in platinum and gold, you want to come? We'll make sure you get your gems at the proper price." The rogue looked up, grinned and shrugged, remarking, "I can get a lot more for these in certain . . . less than legit circles, if you know what I mean. Thanks for the offer though!" She was pleasantly surprised at his offer, but the Tradesfolk would give her better rates than if she would go back to that merchant of theirs. "Ok, we're off then!" Azrael called to Giantt, who stood up, grinning ear to ear, and they started to walk off into the mist.  
  
As they walked together, Azrael started recounting tales of his adventures, and despite herself, Hillodania was intrigued by the tidbits. Eventually, talk turned to the money there were about to get, and Azrael was thankfully going to upgrade his armor and weapon, for he remarked, "Not only will I be able to get a good weapon like a Ghoulbane, but I'll have I'll have earned my armor, not like those with rich parents." She giggled as he spoke aloud the very thing she had been suspecting when she first met him, but her mirth disappeared as she felt the cold steel of a sword slide across her throat as a deadly voice hissed, "You cowards . . . Give me the gems!" Azrael was about to make a reply when a two-handed sword looped in front of the man's own neck. "Dat wusn't bery nice . . . Youz callin us cowards? If da trollie guards no shown up, we be dedder den last week's dorf stew, youz too!" Giantt growled from behind the dark elf, and gradually stepped back, forcing him to pull his katanas back into a relaxed position at his sides. "Tenacious, isn't he?" Hillodania muttered angrily, rubbing her throat. "Wut says we barsh him rite now?" Giantt remarked, inching the sword closer to his throat, drawing a thin line of blood.  
  
Azrael thought for a moment, then said, "No, he did help us out in the initial battle, plus, we did leave him behind after the Ghoul Lord's ambush, so he deserves some share in this, if only to leave us alone." The paladin walked over to Giantt and waved for him to put his sword away. He then reached into his backpack and pulled out a handful of gems and a few platinum bars and handed them to the warrior, who looked very confused as to the human's apparent charity, but it slowly shifted into a dark look. Giantt pulled out two very large handfuls from his own bag and placed them into a bag on the dark elf's back. The paladin then looked at Hillodania, who shook her head, holding tightly onto her own bags and she replied coldly, "Why should we give this bastard anything?"  
  
"Because, as Mithaniel Marr said, 'He who affords effort to aid those who follows the path of truth, even if he does not follow it himself, does deserve even recompense, for it will serve to later turn him to the light.'" Azrael quoted, looking at the rogue expectantly. With a pained look, she removed some of her gems and placed them in Aental's fist, then withdrew to a safe distance.  
  
However, it seemed, the dark elf didn't want their riches, as the man dropped the gems to the ground, eying the group with contempt. "You ran away to count your riches while those trolls fought for their lives. You left them to die in that hole while you ran off to line your own pockets. Have you no honor? Have you no shame?" He pointed to Azrael, "You call yourself a Paladin, but I've known Shadow Knights with more honor than you. Several of them died to protect you just so you could run off to save your precious gems. Is your wealth somehow more important than their lives? You have no honor. You are cowards."  
  
"No honor? Cowards?! If we had stayed and fought, we would have surely joined those trolls that died! All three of us are at the point of just barely earning our surnames, and you expect us to defeat a superior number of Froglocks fifteen to thirty seasons more experienced? To stay would have been tantamount to suicide, even Constellation, obviously a very powerful mage, fled! The troll guards only 'saved' us because of a ruse employed by Hillodania to save us earlier. Had they seen us, they would have surely killed us on sight! They attacked the Froglocks because of their longstanding feud, not because of any alliance with us! You dare compare me to a Shadow knight? A Shadow knight would have surely crippled his companions and left them to stay as bait as he made his escape! I would have left all of my gems if it meant escaping with my life. There is a saying from the book of Marr, 'Know thy limits, ye who fights when the battle is already lost is a madman.'" Azrael shouted indignantly, and he took a deep breath to continue, but Hillodania interrupted him, her face crimson with rage.  
  
"We gave you a share of the take and you still harass us? I wouldn't have given you anything, and Giantt would've surely killed you had Azrael not stopped him! For reasons I'm not sure I agree with, he saved your life, gave you part of his hard-earned reward, and this is how you repay him?" she growled, her dirk and stiletto slipping into her hands. How dare this inkie tell them this after they saved his bacon several times?! She was about to add more when the dark elf shook his head. "You act as if the battle was lost. The trolls did defeat the Froglocks, but their losses were great. I can be sure that if you had stayed, they would not have lost so many." He paused for a moment, "Your ignorance does not become you, Paladin. Do you think Shadow knights have no honor? Do you truly think they would kill their friends to escape? You know nothing of the ways of the Teir'Dal." He then turned to Hillodania, "If you were the one who got the trolls to go down there, then perhaps you are more to blame than the others. You tricked the trolls into going down there to defend you so you could escape with your money and your lives, which are apparently more valuable than theirs. He spread his arms wide, and asked them, "Am I not entitled to a share of the gems? I fought down there as well, and have saved each of you from swords in the back a number of times. More proof of how you treat your saviors."  
  
Azrael looked at the dark elven warrior, and said in a strangely chilled voice, "I know one Shadow Knight far better than I can stand, thank you...And you could have been sure that he'd have laughed as his former group members would have been slaughtered as he made his getaway. Your points do have some validity but . . . " The tone of his voice sent a shiver up her spine, as there was an underlying tone of great pain in his voice, and her heart went out to him in that moment. Before he could go on, the dark elf interrupted him. "It is no matter. I have long known the stubbornness of humans and can see that you will not see your error, no matter what argument I offer. For this I will offer you a deal."  
  
Aental pulled out his swords and kept them at his sides, standing more stiff than before. "I am Aental Ebonsoul, Black Dragoon of the Indigo Brotherhood of Neriak and Master of Myojinsoga Swordsmanship, and I offer you a challenge. You three will fight me until either you hit me once or until you are all on the ground. If I lose, your honor is restored as are your gems. I win, you admit to being the honorless cowards you are, as well as giving me all the gems. Death is no price to pay. He then stood back and waited for a replay from the group . . . Giantt grinned wide, then drew his sword, exclaiming, "Mez alwez ub for a chalenze. An' no seezy dark elb iz gunna kick my arse." He then turned to the others and asked them, "Wut doz yuz sey?"  
  
"Hmph, I may be inexperienced, but that does not mean my skills are less than yours, I am ready, brash one," Azrael said, drawing his axe, and held it steady; his eyes did not betray nervousness, but rather solid intent. Hillodania fell in beside him and nodded her agreement. She made one last comment before anyone could start the battle, "Those trolls didn't do it for me, they did it to kill the Froglocks, I only appeared to them once as a dark elf, and that was to prevent them from finding and killing Azrael and the ogre, they in fact took no interest in me whatsoever. They said they'd be back to take out the Froglocks, so it was only coincidence that they encountered us is all . . . meanie!" she added for good measure.  
  
"Very well," Aental said calmly, raising his katanas, "You may assume any position four yards or more from me." The group surrounded Aental, Giantt behind, Hillodania to the left, and Azrael in front. "Begin!" Aental shouted. The three lunged toward the Dark Elf, who had a look of extreme concentration on his face. He jumped into the air, over the ogre's huge sword, kicking Hillodania in the face and launched himself onto Giantt's head as he blocked a swing from Azrael's axe with crossed swords. He kicked the ogre in the face as he moonsaulted to the ground, facing the group. Giantt charged, swinging his huge sword downward at Aental's head. Aental brushed the attack aside with a flick from his katana and reached up to strike Giantt at the base of his neck with the blunt side of his katana, then followed up with a kick in the stomach. The ogre began stumbling backwards as Azrael's axe slashed toward Aental's chest. Aental parried the blow and flicked the blunt side of his other sword into Azrael's head, then groin, then head again. The paladin tried to dodge, but he was tangled up with Giantt's flailing limbs. They tumbled down together, the ogre toppling on top of the human, sending them both into unconsciousness.  
  
Hillodania hissed in anger and moved stealthily up behind the dark elf, but he was ready for her. Aental's other katana arced downward and behind him to knock Hillodania's backstab aside. He front flipped with one leg extended to catch Hillodania's chin on the way up. Her whole body went upward briefly and then back onto the ground. As her head impacted the ground, her vision faded to black. What seemed like an eternity later, she started to make her way back to consciousness. As she opened her eyes, she found herself cradled in Azrael's strong arms, looking up into his concerned eyes. {He's so warm . . . } she started thinking, but she mentally shook herself and blushed at the contact. "Guess now's a good time for that kiss I promised you, huh?" she asked him, and kissed him full on the lips, and withdrew after a long time had passed, leaving Azrael breathless in more ways than one. The kiss was more passionate than she had ever given anyone, and she found that she found true enjoyment and excitement from it, unlike so many times before, the embrace had left her stirred almost as much as he. When she noticed how much more affected she was than herself, she grinned, and hugged him briefly, not wanting it to end, but she had to let go, but before she went, she was going to leave him a little 'present', along with a note. After checking all the ties on her bags, and swiftly writing out the note, she walked past him and patted his only remaining backpack under his cloak, leaving her gifts, before blowing Azrael a kiss as she leapt up into the treetops and disappeared.  
  
As she recovered in the trees of South Ro, she still couldn't believe the effect the human man had over her, her heart was still pounding. He was something special all right, but he wasn't exactly the man she was looking for, despite his candor, too bad for him, she thought. Unexpectedly, a voice called up to her from the base of the tree. "Rogue, I would have a few words with you!" Aental shouted, looking towards the ravine nervously. {He's nervous? What could make that pompous dolt nervous? Whatever it is, it sounds serious,} she wondered, but left her bags carefully up in the tree where she was sure the warrior couldn't reach them and vaulted down. The dark elf looked her critically in the eye, and began, "Before you get more involved with that human man, Feir'Dal, there's something you should know about him." She was about to say that she had no interest in him, but he didn't give her a chance to interrupt as he went on.  
  
"After you fell, I was confident that I had won, but something . . . happened to your companion. Unholy energy that I know as Darkfire had surrounded him . . . transforming him into an entity that called itself 'Chthon' We fought as he shared none of the wounds that I had given him earlier, and he was totally without mercy, showing hidden skill, coming close to matching mine! Though he returned to normal after I knocked him unconscious once more, I fear your life might be in danger if you get more close to him," Aental told her, and incredulity filled her. This sounded like something thought up to frighten children! She was about to tell him so, but he fixed her with such a gaze that inexplicably leant credence to his words. As he stalked off, she wondered to herself, {What if he's right? What did happen back in that swamp after I was knocked out?} But her only answer was the wind that kicked up and swept her long auburn hair out in front of her face.  
  
]"Where could she be? We've been waiting a week!" Ursus groaned, as he sat scratching his beard while fishing absently in the small pond outside Crow's Pub in Qeynos, his supply of fishing grubs running low, since Lsanna had been gone, unable to forage them for him. "Mmm, it is unlike her . . . she is usually so punctual, I'd like to think its something else . . . " Mistii added, spinning her staff in her hands to relieve her boredom. Joken and Mmya had taken to taking turns watching the gate for the wood elven ranger . . . the paladin spending his off time in the pub, where he had racked up quite a tab. Today was the day they had agreed upon to split up if she hadn't shown up, and go their separate ways. Joken threw his hands up in the air and exclaimed, "It was supposed to be a simple training trip, but she just had to go and help out those Jaggedpine people or whoever they were, and even they said she'd be back in roughly three days at the least! I'm tired of sitting on my butt, I'd go and look for her, if only they would let me in after her!" Ursus snorted, and remarked, "Yeah, as if you had any chance at getting anywhere in that forest. Only those druids can seem to get in and out of it, and the woods are reputed to be filled with beasts nearly twice our seasons or more in difficulty, you want to go there without an invisibility spell or being a friend to animals, both of which Lsanna has?" Joken's face started to rise when he remembered that the Erudite wizard had an invisibility spell, but fell when he realized that she too would be adverse to going in as well.  
  
Just then, Mmya returned, her red robes swishing, and behind her they could see a feminine leg clad in banded mail. They started to get up in hope, but when they saw it was Lsanna's sister, their moods fell slightly, still, they were heartened to see the rogue. "She still hasn't come back yet..." Mmya told them, shaking her head in frustration. "Took you long enough to catch up to us, Hillodania, what've you been up to?" Ursus asked, packing away his rod, and lumbering to his feet. The young elven woman tossed her auburn hair and blushed, replying, "Nearly getting killed, getting filthy rich, all that good stuff." They all laughed at that, but their good humor was dampened by the absence of their leader. Finally, Joken picked up his stuff and started to walk off, and Hillodania shouted after him, "Where are you going? Can't we at least look for my sister one more time?" The paladin called back over his shoulder, "You can do so if you want, but I'm going, its too boring just sitting here." Mmya's face twisted into a frown, and she hurried after him, muttering, "I better go along just to keep him out of trouble." Helplessly, Hillodania turned to the Barbarian siblings. They looked at each other briefly, then told her, "We are also fed up with waiting . . . We're heading to Highpass once more, you can either come with us, or we can escort you at least to wherever you want on the plains, I hear the Southern regions of the Karanas are good for someone of your experience." Sighing, the wood elf turned her eyes to the stone gate behind her, hoping that her sister would somehow appear through it, but all that she could see there was the long stone path stretching off into the distance, along with the assorted gnoll pups, rats, snakes, skeletons, and beetles that patrolled the novice area. Giving a shrug of defeat, trying to hide the ache in her voice, she responded, "South Karana sounds nice . . . "  
  
Some days later . . .  
  
Hillodania sat down in exhaustion, panting with exertion, but for once in a few weeks, she was happy. Mistii and Ursus' suggestion that she come to South Karana was a good one, she had found an Aviak city built into the trees, around which many adventurers were gathered, trying to empty that arborean fortress of its inhabitants. She had found a group of mainly women, with two men. Although they had a warrior, a paladin, a cleric, and a magician in addition to herself, they were in sore need of a enchanter to keep control over the multiple enemies the warrior often brought back . . . it seemed like the man had no sense, or had a difficult time in getting one of the humanoid birds alone. Still, she was glad of the attention she was getting, for although the paladin and cleric were women, the warrior, who was the leader, considered her to be the most attractive, and had showered her with compliments, and had taken extra pains to assure she was never injured in battle, though the cleric would have healed her if such was the case.  
  
After a particularly bad pull, they all were splayed out on the ground, attempting to rest. Hillodania lay on her back, covering her eyes from the bright sun, when someone in light blue robes stepping right behind her head and stood there, but instead of blocking out the glare, the gold embroidery on the woman's robes glimmered blindingly, forcing the rogue to sit up. She rotated her upper torso and looked back at the high elven woman, who was surveying them interestedly, with an oddly . . . hungry look in her violet eyes. Violet! She had never seen eyes like those, and they seemed to draw her in . . . a warm feeling suffusing her body...she broke the stare quickly with her entire face going crimson, as she realized that this woman was an enchantress. "What luck! Would you care to join us milady enchanter?" the warrior exclaimed, sitting bolt upright, but his eyes went to her chest rather than her face, and what a chest it was! For the first in a long time, Hillodania felt envious of another woman's body. Though proportionately they were similar, the high elf's height lent more curves to her figure, and her bosom would shame a barbarian woman! "Why certainly, darling, I am Nedra Hypnos, and I am at your lord and ladyships' service!" the enchantress proclaimed, bowing a curtsy that masterfully caused her bust to sway, drawing the warrior and magician's gaze ever tighter.  
  
Abruptly, she looked off to the side and saw Hillodania looking at her. Her eyes flashed, and Hillodania suddenly felt exposed, as if she were naked under the caster's scrutiny. "Well, hello!" Nedra warbled, standing up, and sashayed over to the rogue. Taking an ivory hand tipped with sapphire- painted nails, she lifted up Hillodania's chin up to look her in the face. Surprisingly, the enchantress had a strong grip, and Hillodania found she couldn't look away from those mesmerizing violet eyes. She found herself blushing again, but couldn't pull away, but instead stood up with the high elf's prompting. After a while, the enchantment seemed to fade, and the older woman beamed a dazzling smile at her, taking a step back to look over her once again. "I never thought I'd find another so pretty as you, my dear rose, nor one so close to matching myself," she told her, tapping one long- nailed finger on her cheek. The men were watching this exchange with interest, and the high elven paladin had to smack them over the head to regain their attention.  
  
A few hours later, Hillodania was all discombobulated, she hadn't stopped blushing since at least an hour and a half ago, her entire body felt hot and flushed, her attention unfocused, all because of that enchantress! The high elf had been flirting with everyone in the group, male and female alike! While the paladin and cleric didn't seem to mind all that much, in fact, they seemed sort of pleased by the attention. Only the young wood elven woman was bothered by it, and that only caused Nedra to focus her efforts on the rogue all the more often. All this canoodling had one positive benefit though, the group was working better together, they had better tempers, and they could focus on battle more than less, which was odd, and with Nedra's help, they had successfully broken up several pulls with multiple Aviaks. They were even considering going up to the top floor, nicknamed, "The penthouse," a name Hillodania found distinctly uncomfortable.  
  
Sure enough, the warrior made it known that they were going up there. Oddly enough, Hillodania was continuously reminded of Nixxius, her old childhood friend, except that he had been less . . . open about his dual sexuality. She wanted to believe the woman was straight, but that certainty was slipping away more and more as time grew on. After they had cleared out the penthouse and were waiting for more Aviaks to show, she rounded on the enchantress. "All right, you! Which do you like, women or men?" she demanded, her cheeks as red as her hair. Nedra grinned and smoothed back her wavy blond hair as she stood up and moved close. Hillodania wanted to move away, but she didn't want to back over the edge of the ramp, nor did she have much elsewhere to maneuver, and she found herself pinned up against the side of the building. She found the high elf's body pressed close up against her own, and her disquiet grew tenfold. Nedra started to undo the top fasteners on her robe, and Hillodania started trembling just as the men's attention was drawn there simultaneously. "You see this?" Nedra said, pulling a silver heart-shaped pendant out from between her ample cleavage. Hillodania knew instantly what it was, for she herself had a pendant of a laughing mask, the sign of her religion, the high elf apparently worshipped Erolissi, but she had never heard of a woman so devoted to spreading the message of love that she'd go to these measures! Nedra herself said as much, in a voice loud enough to the others to hear, but she then ducked her head in close to Hillodania's left ear, and whispered into it, "But . . . I've taken a very special liking to you my dear . . . Even though I like men moreso than women, I do enjoy the distinctive pleasures each can give me, and that I can give them. Shall I give you a sample?" As her head pulled back, Hillodania tried to shake hers, but it could only bob in place. With a smoldering look in her eyes, Nedra's deep-red lips turned into a sultry smile, and before Hillodania could move, the high elf's woman's head darted forwards, and she found herself being kissed full on the lips. She distantly heard the clanks of a mailed fist striking the heads of her male comrades, but all she could focus on was the alien and forbiddingly exciting sensation of another woman's lips on her own. She felt as stunned as if hit with a mesmerization spell, and her shock only intensified when she felt Nedra's tongue slip between her lips and into her own mouth, twining with her tongue, as she found herself responding to the kiss in kind.  
  
After what seemed like ages, Nedra broke the kiss, allowing Hillodania to try and get back her breath. "Wha . . . what . . . what was that for?" the rogue coughed after getting some semblance of breath back, feeling very dirty, but somehow aroused at the same time. Nedra laughed behind her hand, and the strange pressure she had been feeling dropped to nothing. "I truly am sorry, but I had to use all of my talents to bring you in close to me, for I was indeed speaking the truth, in that I have not beheld a woman of your caliber in a long time . . . and I seldom get chances to experience such . . . pleasures with the same sex," Nedra explained. "You mean, you used your magic?" the cleric asked, interested, but slightly disturbed. "Oh, heavens, no! Its just a particular talent of mine, indeed, most enchanters learn to be more than attracting to the people they choose, regardless of gender!" she chortled, and the other two women laughed with her, but Hillodania didn't join in, and indeed the men couldn't, for they were lying in a heap on the platform, bumps raised from their heads. {I can't believe this! This woman is . . . perfect in every way! And she's got to rub it in, doesn't she! But . . . why did she kiss me?!! If she does this with men too . . . she's exactly like Nixxius . . . } she thought to herself, but a squawk of anger broke her out of her thoughts, as an Aviak Avocet lunged out of the hut and struck Nedra solidly in the back. The woman cried out in pain, and dropped to the ground, clutching at her spine. The paladin leapt to fight the bird, as the cleric roused the two men to fight as well. Hillodania crept close to the enchantress and kneeled down beside her. Nedra was gasping in pain, but she managed to look up at the younger woman, and smile briefly, gasping out, "I . . . was . . . never good at taking blows, indeed, keepers of the art aren't supposed to . . . but I wish it were otherwise." Leaving her to rest, Hillodania aided her group, but her mind kept returning to the enchantress throughout the battle, as she managed to shake off her injury and start casting spells to support them. {Even if she is 'spell-binding', she's as frail as any caster . . . I suppose its even compensation, but I do feel sorry for her . . . } she mused as the large bird attempted to run, but was felled by the rogue's dirk.  
  
They stayed there a long time, but Nedra was forced to leave them, as she became too experienced to stay in the group, and wandered off to ply her trade elsewhere. Hillodania felt truly sorry to see her leave, and was confused as to whether or not she should be embarrassed by that fact or not, touching her lips in remembrance. Though she had kissed men many times before, that particular one was special, she had known that. The fact that she wasn't entirely revulsed by the event worried her deeply, but she didn't have time to ponder on about it, as a half-elven bard ran up, waving a paper excitedly. As people gathered around, the bard proudly displayed what it was . . . a map, with a new continent depicted on it! The woman, pride filling her voice, proclaimed, "Come one, come all! And let me be the first to inform you of a new mysterious land, filled with great treasure and mystery! Let me be your guide to this land of Kunark, for a reasonable fee of course!" Payment was the furthest thing from Hillodania's mind as she looked at that rumpled expanse of parchment. Her old dream of adventure resurfaced . . . what better way to fulfill it than to explore an unknown continent? Her mind was made up . . . Kunark had best be ready for her. 


	2. Origins Hillodania Part 2

Hillodania had finished saying good-bye to her temporary comrades, and was walking across the bridge when she heard a familiar voice shout, "Wait up!" Her cheeks turned pink as she realized precisely who that voice belonged to, for as she turned around, she saw Nedra walking sedately up to her from where she had been resting against the wall of the guard-house on the bridge. She started to tense up, but Nedra just smiled and said, "Calm down, I'm not here to make out with you...not yet at least," making calming gestures. The rogue was astonished at the change in her personality from the time she had last known her. This time she seemed more genuine, calmer, and even thoughtful, her tone almost like that of an older sister. Thinking of that link however made her wince. The enchantress raised a blonde eyebrow at her expression, but showed no sign of any intention other than to simply talk with her. Before she could say or ask anything, Hillodania asked immediately, "Just why did you kiss me?" Nedra blinked briefly, then lifted her head and laughed out loud, making Hillodania feel a bit embarrassed at having asked that right off the bat. After she stopped laughing, Nedra asked, "You were that disturbed by it?" "A bit . . . " Hillodania admitted, blushing even further.  
  
Nedra shifted into a more comfortable stance, then looked right into Hillodania's eyes as she explained, "Though you might find it unnatural, I find women attractive in addition to men. Though I'd be more inclined to seek the romantic company of a man, due to my own preferences and beliefs, I'm not going to rule out another woman. I didn't kiss you with the intention of disturbing you; though it was amusing to see how hot and bothered you got. I would not have gone any further without you wanting to, but I wasn't waiting here to proposition you." Hillodania felt relieved, then a confused look came over her face, and she asked, "What for then?" Nedra looked off into the distance as if she was thinking, then turned back and replied, "I got the impression when I was with you in that group that I could trust you . . . trust your instincts as a woman. I heard that you were leaving for this new continent, and I would like you to keep an eye out for an old . . . friend of mine. He's quite an unusual man for a paladin, tall with short brown hair, strong features, gorgeous hazel eyes, he sometimes seems troubled by some sort of inner conflict, as well as seeming out of place here, as if he came from somewhere far away, and his name is . . . " "Azrael," Hillodania finished as she realized whom the high elf was talking about. The older woman smiled warmly, and she remarked, "So, you've met him too, I take it."  
  
Hillodania turned around and stared off into the blue sky off the bridge, speaking over her shoulder, "He saved my life once . . . no, twice. Though I originally thought he was simple, I found out that he was more complex, deeper than I could go in the short time we were together. He wasn't fazed by my flirting with him . . . he saw past it, to my core, in an instant, and he didn't mind, he truly and genuinely cared for me, without hesitation. Even for a paladin, how often do you find that kind of man? Though our personalities probably wouldn't match . . . he made me feel . . . special, like he really valued me for who I was. Do you know what I'm talking about?" Nedra nodded in understanding, and her eyes grew distant as she remembered her time with him. "I met him through a trick by a devious man, but rather than holding a grudge against me, he forgave me for being duped, and although he was flustered by my attentiveness to him, it was like you said, he could see who you were, despite whatever image you wanted to present to him. He seemed . . . lonely when I met him, as if he had left friends and family behind, which I suppose we all did, but I got the impression from him that somehow he couldn't go back to them, at least not for a long time. He was also sad, as if he had the burden of the entire world on his shoulders, and when his confidence slipped a little, the look in his eyes made me want to cry, as I could only wonder how he wasn't crying himself. I tried my best to show him that he wasn't alone during our brief time together, and I can only pray that it helped. He certainly is special though . . . and skilled in many ways, wise beyond his years," she told the younger woman, then surprisingly blushed herself, and added, "Especially in bed." Hillodania's ears went bolt upright and extended out in surprise as she gasped, "You slept with him?"  
  
Nedra noticed her shocked expression, then with a sheepish look, told Hillodania, "It's not like I seduced him! Believe me, I had tried earlier! By being truer to myself, really offering my love to him, that was what caused him to agree I think, on that cold night, when he was so sad, I'm just glad I could provide him with some comfort, even if it was just with my body, but I think he was most soothed by my love rather than the sex." "But still . . . I just can't imagine . . . " Hillodania muttered, her cheeks going red as the mental image of Azrael and Nedra in bed together popped into her head. Just then, Nedra placed a hand on her shoulder, and looked her seriously in the eye. "Though I'm not entirely sure if he felt the same about me during our adventures together, I can see that you felt similarly to me when you had met him. Even though we'll both probably end up with other men than him, I still don't want him to be lonely forever, as it hurts just to see him in that kind of pain . . . I haven't been able to find him since that time, so if you recognize him, all I want you to do is be his friend for a while, and send a letter back to me if you find him, all right?" she asked, no trace of falseness in her voice or in her eyes. Hillodania nodded, and the enchantress smiled with relief, making the rogue wonder just how much that man had really affected the woman.  
  
As she turned to go, Nedra gave her one more piece of advice, "Though you might enjoy it, or find it profitable, don't waste your youth, and your life bouncing from man to man . . . look past to their personality, their mind, find the man that is right for you, or else you'll just end up feeling shallow, for if you don't get love back in return, what's the point of giving it?" Those words struck home as Hillodania realized that's exactly what she had been doing. A solitary tear trickled out of the corner of her eye, as a wave of sadness hit her. Seeing this, Nedra embraced her, and kissed the tear away, not the passionate kiss of before, but like Lsanna used to do, holding her with a warmth that was almost maternal, making Hillodania feel homesick. She hugged the older elven woman for a long time, and then waved good-bye as she went on her way finally.  
  
It had been a long time since she had been back, but seeing the rocky shores of the Butcherblock mountain range made her feel like she had never left. Her heart sank briefly when she remembered that she still wasn't allowed to come back for at least another year or two, but it lifted again when she saw the floating shapes of four new boats in the mist off the other dock. She wondered why they were so small, but before she could ask anybody else waiting with her why, a halfling woman noticed her quizzical expression, and told her, "These aren't the real boats, of course, I heard they're referred to as 'shuttles'. We will only be taking these a short ways until we reach the Maiden's Voyage, which will take us the rest of the way." Hillodania's eyes widened, and she asked in surprised interest, "The Maiden's Voyage? Firiona Vie's ship of old? It still is at sea?" "That it is, still seaworthy after all this time, a finely made ship, although I am leery of going over water despite that. In fact, they named the settlement after her, so we'll be arriving at Firiona Vie, odd, eh?" the halfling chuckled, then looked off into the distance, and pointed, drawing Hillodania's eyes to another shuttle, waiting off in the distance. The others started walking onto the roofs of the shuttles, so she chose the same one as the kindly halfling, as boats mystically started moving, without any crew or oars, just like the normal boats. After all the shuttles had been traveling for a while, they came out into the clearer waters of the Timorous Deep, where a sight like she had never seen before took her breath away. There, waiting for them, was the largest ship ever built, the Maiden's Voyage. It had been meant to take along almost a city's worth of citizens along with Firiona Vie, so of course it had to be big, but she never imagined anything like this! There were even several huts and a long house built on the deck! Lacy sails were tucked up as the wing-like structures that held them were raised so the ship could await the arrival of the shuttles.  
  
It felt like stepping onto a piece of the past, getting on that boat, or so Hillodania thought, as she raced up the ramp off the side of the boat so she could go exploring. After making a tour of the expansive deck, she took a place by the railing, and waited impatiently for the boat to take off. And take off it, did, for as the sails lowered, they filled with wind almost immediately, and they were off like a shot, faster than even the regular boats. As the wind rushed through her hair, Hillodania laughed with delight as she saw seabirds passed by, and when she looked down she saw dolphins swimming alongside the boat, occasionally leaping out of the water. Her troubles were swept away as she reveled in the experience of riding the boat. Great things were awaiting her on this journey, she was sure of it.  
  
The first thing she saw as they neared the city was the immense statue of Firiona Vie herself, with a blue flame in the palm of her hand. She surveyed the town, which was in the process of having many buildings built in addition to the ones already there, as more pilgrims and adventurers arrived. The sails closed up again, and through some unknown means, the ship slowed to a stop precisely before the docks. Hillodania took one last look at the boat before hurrying down the ramp and onto the docks, into the press of people. Though it had gotten to dusk while they were traveling, there were still a great many people about, buying things, but mainly just arriving and getting settled. As twilight wore on, the rogue started to wonder where she would have to spend the night. As she was considering her options, she bumped into the backside of a robed woman standing in front of a stall selling fruit. She was about to apologize when she heard the woman say, "Hillodania, is that you?" She looked up and saw that it was Mmya, the Erudite wizard her sister had been friends with. "Yup, its me," she responded, and they hugged briefly, before the middle-aged woman completed her purchase and waved for Hillodania to walk with her. "Did you just arrive today? I haven't seen you around," the wizard asked, hefting the sack so that it was easier to carry. "Yeah, but with all these people here, I would think the inns wouldn't have any openings," Hillodania told her, walking briskly to keep up. The erudite chuckled, and admitted, "That's true, but thankfully they are setting up communal housing for all the people arriving, I signed out a house for a bunch of people myself, you can stay with us, and I think you'll recognize our fellow tenants." As they walked through the door of the building Mmya had indicated, Hillodania smiled to see almost all of her former companions there; Ursus, Joken, and Mistii were sitting at the large table in the common room. But one person was absent. She looked hopefully at Mmya, but the wizard shook her head sadly. {Just where is my sister?} Hillodania thought to herself as the others welcomed her. Outside, leaning against a hut's wall, a muscular man wearing a monk's clothing grinned brightly, white teeth gleaming under a splendid black moustache, and long raven-colored hair swept back over his shoulders. He thought to himself as he started to walk away, {She's here! I finally found her again!}  
  
Chapter 3 Early Adulthood: Wilting Rose  
  
Hillodania sat down on the fallen pillar and buried her face in her hands and immediately wished she hadn't, as the banded mail was filthy with sweat, dirt, and rust, but at the moment she didn't care as much as she normally would. Tears would wash it clean anyways. Kunark was so full of life . . . yet so empty at the same time. A great deal of the people she had met were either too experienced for her, rushing off towards the center of the continent, or they were headstrong amateurs, convinced that their gear would render them invulnerable to the new monsters encountered here, but they were sadly mistaken.  
  
So far, the rogue had plied her skills against many odd creatures, each more menacing than the last. The big cats here were sabertoothes, fangs almost as long as her forearm, and twice as vicious as any lion on Antonica. Bizarre, misshapen goblins, such a departure from the almost comical creatures she had fought as a younger woman, with their dark green hides, misbalanced arms, and gaping, fang-filled maw. Lizardmen in two varieties, both as cruel as the other. One race lived in a city at the far end of a long plain off from a large lake they had found, a malicious band of bandits, covered in metallic blue scales, and shaped almost like a man with the exception of their clawed hands, tails, and reptilian heads. The other russet-scaled race had members that were tall and spindly, but incredibly strong, with three horns protruding from their dragonesque heads, elongated and beaked, their tails spiked.  
  
There were skeletons, like any other place, but they were of the more humanoid Lizardmen, reputedly called Iksar by the citizens of Firiona Vie, and they were either charred or frozen, an odd dichotomy, but each was deadly in their own way. She had found that the earliest kinds of each creature she had found were far too early, after leaving the river, but working her way to the other side of the lake produced far more powerful versions, and it was upon these that she practiced her skills. However, she paid a high price for each victory, as these creatures fought like nothing she had previously experienced. Even the Aviaks did not have as hard a punch as an angry Sarnak, as the dragon men were called.  
  
She was one of a few people in their mid-twentieth seasons, but they preferred to fight alone, or explore, too often getting in over their heads. She suspected it was only by her luck that she too hadn't perished, her body laying around in the sun, waiting for a rare cleric to find it before it was too late, as it frequently was for those hapless adventurers. Almost every day she had come out here to the Lake of Ill Omen, she was alone, and she hated it. Even when she was walking along the streets of Firiona Vie, there was nobody to talk to, nobody to pay attention to her; everyone was rushing about on their own business. Pilgrims never talked to anyone, and people getting off the boat were too occupied with heading off into the mainland to stay and talk awhile. She couldn't even flirt with anyone but the guards, and they were not permitted to leave their posts, which they seemed to occupy twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. Her only solace was returning 'home', to stay with her friends, but they too were busy, either recovering from their own expeditions or preparing for another. She felt . . . abandoned; yet it was she who had chosen to come here.  
  
And it was not like she could leave, as too many people flooded off the boat for her to get on before it left, and wizards and druids weren't interested in teleporting off the island, the druid ring and wizard spire were choked with casters and their passengers arriving. It was odd to her then, that there should be so few people around her experience level here. If she was her usual self, she would've thought about it and shrugged it off, but today she was crying her eyes out on that marble pillar.  
  
After a good long cry, she looked up with puffy eyes to see a setting sun, it was nearly time to head back. Though she had no fear of the dark, or the creatures in it, even the random few people she might encountered headed back to Firiona Vie for dinner and companionship, of which she could currently only find one of the two. Sniffling, she leapt off of the pillar and began walking along the sandy coast of the lake back towards the river. Several meters away, the monk watched her with fists clenched in helplessness. {Why didn't I go to her? Try to comfort her? Why am I so nervous?} he thought in anguish, but eventually gave up, shaking his head, and walked after her.  
  
The next day . . .  
  
Hillodania hadn't bothered trying to put make-up on that morning, as she was just too tired from the previous day. Still, people glanced twice or more as she passed them in the streets. As she went towards the groceries vendor to do her assigned shopping, she noticed a curious flyer attached to the side of one of the huts. On it was drawn the face of a human man, with long black beaded moustaches and a cocky smile. The poster also read:  
  
WANTED Gallandros Quicksilver For burglary, accused of murder, and suspected of rape. Report all sightings to the local garrison. To be brought in alive if possible.  
  
{What a swell guy,} she thought to herself in a amusement, studying his features. She then noticed that the bottom of the flyer had peeled up from the wall, and she pulled it down again and looked at what had been covered up: Reward for capture: 3000 platinum pieces, payable immediately upon delivery. Her eyes started to sparkle like newly minted coins. Three thousand! For this one man! She had close to twelve thousand in the bank from the gem and ingot haul, but she could always use more, oh yes. The biggest bounty she had ever heard of before was for a serial killer, and that was for five thousand, and this guy was only accused of murder and he was nearly worth as much.  
  
She looked again at the bottom of the poster to see if it mentioned his local hangouts, but there was nothing beyond the reward mentioned on the parchment. {Oh well, he can't have gone far if this was posted just this morning! Better take a look around . . .} she thought eagerly, and no sooner had the last cucumber been placed in her shopping bag and she was off like a shot back to the communal house to grab her gear.  
  
Ten minutes later, after a hard dash along the river avoiding drachnids, odd centaur-like spiders with the lower body of a giant spider and the upper body of a dark elf, she was back at the Lake of Ill Omen, searching everywhere. She was just about to give up when she heard a rough, rowdy voice remark, "Looking for someone, buttercup?" Leaning nonchalantly against one of the many odd menhirs around the hills was the man from the picture in the flesh, Gallandros! She smiled half to herself, as she knew from experience that the most self-confident thieves were often the least skilled. But as she started to draw her daggers, in a flash, he wasn't there anymore. Her eyes flickered, looking for him, but before she could draw the blades out fully, she felt a sharp edge against her throat.  
  
Gallandros leaned over her shoulder and tsked, and said, "Ah ah ah ah . . . Feisty little filly, aren't cha? I take it you weren't out here to dance, not with the shivs you're packing." The arrogant man winked at her lasciviously, and added, "Or maybe you were lookin for a bit of two-bladed tango, eh? However good you may be, you gotta have a quick draw if you have any hope 'a winnin, y'see?" Quicker than her eye could follow, he had a second dagger up close against her ribs. With a leer, he started to move his hand up and move his waist in closer, but he stopped when he felt a sharp prick against his groin. Looking down, he saw that while her daggers weren't out of their loops, he had been inches away from giving himself a do-it-yourself castration. Hillodania gave him a wink with her big green eyes, and retorted, "And sometimes, all you need is luck."  
  
The other rogue withdrew and rubbed in relief at his intact manhood as covertly as he could, halfway between a smile and a grimace. "Point . . . taken, filly. But yer not off the hook yet, I always catch my fish. Toodles!" he muttered, then leapt away, pulling a periwinkle blue bandana over his face.  
  
Though she had nearly been a victim herself, she had gotten a clear look at him. He looked like a bandit from old Freeport Westerns, what with his leather pants, chain tunic, fancy leather wristbands, and that flashy bandana, but his skills were no laughing manner. With a quick-draw like that, she wouldn't stand a chance if she couldn't catch him off guard. Not an easy task against another rogue, but his being human gave her an advantage. If she could hear even a sign of his drawing near, she might retain some element of surprise against him. And with a little 'luck', who knows?  
  
"Are you INSANE?!" The shout was amplified by the small room, and compared to the relative silence of just a few moments before, the cry had been deafening, especially to someone with as sensitive hearing as one certain wood elf. "Do you think you could say it just a bit louder?" Hillodania asked sarcastically, massaging one long aching ear. She winced as she shook her head and looked at Mmya, standing there with brush still in hand, who was looking at her incredulously, an obstinate look set on her face. Since she had been brushing the rogue's red locks just a minute before she had announced her plans to continue to pursue Gallandros, her grumpy look coupled with her hands-on-hips with legs splayed now reminded her almost amusingly of her scolding at the hand of her mother. Taking a deep breath, the Erudite woman finally said, "Sorry, but could you at least let me ask you why you got this fool plan into your head? Racial differences aside, fighting a man of his experience is just plain nuts! I've heard the stories, they say he's killed at least eight men, or at least they've never been heard from again!"  
  
With a confident smirk, the younger woman gave the wizard a thumbs-up. "I think you're underestimating how much advantage being a wood elf gives me. I can likely hear him coming a mile away, I'm twice as agile, plus, I've got my 'luck'; what can go wrong?" she explained as if boasting about skill at playing cards. Shaking her head, Mmya started brushing Hillodania's auburn hair again, fixing the tangles she had inadvertently caused before. As she ran the brush through the long strands, the older woman remarked, "Hubris is the end of many a man . . . Think seriously on what you're going to attempt. As you say, this man may prove to be dangerously overconfident, allowing for some slim margin of victory, but I still think you're risking yourself far too much with your fool plan. Remember, if you should die in your attempt capturing this criminal, I can't guarantee you that it'll be in sight of a cleric who is able to resurrect you. I'm sure you don't want a permanent death to come out of some excessive pride in your abilities!"  
  
Hillodania's smile faded into a stubborn sulk as she sat in silence, listening to the sound of the brush gliding through her hair. Finally finished, Mmya set the comb down on their shared dresser and moved off to her cot on her side of the women's floor. Mistii was already asleep, sprawled out on her own cot, which was slightly too small for her, her legs dangling over the edge. They had convinced her earlier to let them undo her braids, and they had found that despite the surprisingly healthy state of her hair, the amount of dirt and grime in her blond tresses was considerable, so they had to not only shampoo her hair, but force her to take a bath as well. Evidently, the Barbarian women were almost as unscrupulous about hygiene as the men! As Mmya pulled the covers up to her chest, and was about to extinguish the candle on the windowsill, Hillodania repeated one last time, "I will win."  
  
As she weaved along the river going away from her as she ran towards the Lake of Ill Omen, she went over the strategy in her head for the thousandth time. She had last seen him fleeing in the direction of the Frontier Mountains, a heavily wooded area, at least along the sides of the mountains, the valley, despite its many dips and crevasses, was too open for a sufficiently stealthy attack. This was good in that she could see the man coming, but she too would have no cover. That, and she didn't want to be chanced upon by a mountain giant, brute, or Burynai. The way she had thought of it was to find him wherever he was hiding, lure him into the trees, and begin to use her race's arboreal ancestry to her advantage. Weaving through the trees costs most people valuable time and maneuvering room, as well as creating a lot of noise. Even if he somehow could leap into the trees after her, his weight, plus poorer agility, would creak and snap the branches as he landed on them. No matter if he had a quick draw, if she moved quick enough and was lucky enough, all he would damage was bark.  
  
After an uneventful dash through the lake's vicinity, she found herself looking out over the valley through the middle of the Frontier Mountains. Reminding herself of the dangers of the area, she carefully made her way along the pass leading out into the main area, and worked her way into the trees. She had gone but thirty feet, when she heard a voice say, "Hiya, toots." Instinctively, she ducked, and heard the scrape of steel against bark a split second later as a dagger strike that could have half cleaved her head off impacted against a nearby tree. Not resting for an instant, she leapt off to the slide, and slid down the slope a bit, but she was upright and facing her attacker. Gallandros wrenched his long knife out of the tree and shook it to flick off the splinters that were still on it. He lifted it to his lips and kissed the edge, then lowered it slightly to leer at her. "I told ya I'd be back . . . I ain't going to go easy on you this time, babe," he remarked, and as the last words passed his teeth he was dashing towards her at a frightening speed. With a grunt of effort, Hillodania backflipped up onto a branch over head and sprung to a more advantageous perch. As the human rogue tracked her, Hillodania thought to herself, {Ok, Stage 1, completed . . . what the?!} With less effort than it had cost her, Gallandros leapt up, caught a branch in one hand, and pulled himself up onto it, then lunged at her again.  
  
Only by vaulting to another branch saved her bacon as Gallandros' blade found only plant not flesh. Taking a risk, she flung herself backwards like a gymnast, and caught another branch, swung on it, and pushed off to a much higher branch. She could only catch flickers of movement as Gallandros moved towards her again, moving like lighting through the boughs. {So fast . . . } she thought, but before she could complete her sentence, she had to again dodge aside as the human man reached her. She was already breathing hard with exertion, while Gallandros just grinned consistently, the beads on his moustache clinking as he bounced from limb to limb. As she fled, she came to the realization that he was expecting her to run, and if she continued to follow this strategy, he'd wear her out and catch her, despite her best efforts.  
  
{Time to do something unexpected . . . } she thought silently as rather than leaping away to a new tree, she rebounded off the trunk right back at the approaching Gallandros, much to his shock. The surprise faded swiftly though, as he started his blinding draw to catch her as she neared him. However, gold flecks flickered across Hillodania's eyes, and the dagger caught in its hilt. This time it was his turn to dodge as Hillodania's blade lashed out, carving a thin line into his cheek. She caught a branch as she neared a tree, and bounded off to a safer perch as she watched for his reaction. He placed on hand on his cheek, and when he drew it away he beheld a reddened palm. Grimacing in anger rather than pain, he drew the dagger all the way out of the hilt and shouted, "I was going to spare your life, but now you've done got me angry, witch, and all the luck in the world is going to save you this time!" With a roar, he disappeared from sight, only to reappear a scant second later right in front of her face, his dagger poised to strike. She managed to block his strike and leap away, but he was right with her, blades flashing, and it was all that she could do to keep one from reaching her heart.  
  
Trusting her luck to keep her safe, she turned away from his in one leap in an attempt at finding a place to extend the distance between him and her, but as she leapt, his hand shot out and grabbed her ankle. She yanked it from his grasp, but her balance was shot, and instead of finding a new place to stand, she impacted the branch with her stomach instead, knocking the wind out of her. She fell backwards, and narrowly avoided the dagger that plunged towards her neck, but struck the branch instead. She managed to land on a lower branch, but she screamed as a dagger pierced her side. Gallandros had landed perfectly, and now one of his blades was buried three inches deep in her right side. A flick from his knife, and a red line appeared on her right wrist, causing her to drop her dirk, and he pinned her left hand with ease. Finally started to smile again, he leaned in close to her face, and told her, "You're good, babe, but me? I'm magic." Assured of his prize, he extracted the dagger and prepared to stab again, this time for her heart.  
  
In agony, Hillodania lashed out with her power, forcing all her remaining strength into the ability. As her corneas turned as gold as burnished coins, the limb they were both standing on started to crack and groan under their weight. Its sudden weakness revealed, it gave way in its middle, falling to the mountain floor. His foothold gone, Gallandros toppled with it, only to land in the arms of a surprised ravenous brute. As he looked up into the simian face, the rogue gulped nervously and remarked, "You ain't exactly my idea of a blind date . . . " The brute bellowed and hurled the rogue away towards a rock, but the man managed to hit it with his feet rather than his head. "Man, that smarts . . . " he muttered as he dashed away from the orange-furred behemoth who was lumbering at a great pace towards him. Hillodania wasn't watching him go however. She slumped against what was left of the branch, clamping her hand over the wound burning between her ribs. Blood wasn't flowing out of the wound like previous stab injuries, but was spurting. If she didn't get some help soon, she would bleed to death before she could get back to Firiona Vie. Regardless, she had to try, she might meet someone along the way.  
  
She tried to raise her voice for a shout for help, but breath wouldn't come, her lungs felt tight, and she could only get air through small gasps. Leaping out of the tree, her ankles nearly buckled as she hit the ground, her head swimming dizzily. Off in the distance, she saw some sort of fort on the hill. Not caring what kind of creatures or people dwelling within it, she hobbled off in that direction. She could see a few people sitting outside the gigantic door, and she stumbled towards them, try to call out a greeting. Her vision was starting to blur, and she collapsed to the ground. She saw two of the group get up and rush over as her vision faded to black.  
  
She woke up in her own cot back in Firiona Vie, and blinked in surprise. Her side still hurt, and it still felt tight, but she could breath, and moving didn't bring excessive pain. An experimental pat on her ribs revealed that they were bandaged up. "Apparently, it's starting to become habit for me to bind up all kinds of elves near death . . . not that I mind with a Feir'Dal, but I wish I could run into a Koada'Dal once in a while," someone said off to her right, and she saw a high elven magician sitting on a stool some distance away. He had white wavy hair tucked into an odd rounded ponytail or braid, she couldn't tell which, and he wore brilliant red robes. "I'm Zektoll, my comrade would have come with me, but they dislike dark elves and necromancers, so he's got two counts against him, not that I care, but he did help too, in his own way," he explained. "Thank you," she replied softly, not wanting to dare saying anything louder. Something in his oddly dark eyes reminded her of someone, but before she could probe further, Mmya walked into the room carrying her dinner. The mage got up, waved briefly to the wizard, then headed out of the room, while the wizard started in on a tirade about curiosity killing the cat, and such things, so suffice to say, once she actually got her food, it was stone cold. {This is not my day . . . } she thought bitterly as she choked down some frigid peas as she looked out the window. As she finished her late dinner, she lifted up the bandage to look at her wound. An angry, red, puffy scar greeted her, and she groaned in dismay. {Oh well, so long as I'm not showing my chest to anyone too often, this won't mar my looks too much . . . I hope,} she thought sadly, lowering the bandage, flopping down onto her uninjured side and surprised herself by falling asleep quickly.  
  
As people move along in a crowd, sometimes they'll look up, only if to catch a brief glimpse of sky before returning to the hubbub they are struggling along in. But every so often, there's actually something of interest to hold their view, which will make them slow or even stop. The thing most currently holding the attention of two-dozen pilgrims? Namely a certain red-haired rogue, balancing atop a thin pole forty feet in the air on one foot. She, however, could care less about their gawking. Aside from avoiding falling, there was but one thought on her mind: how to defeat Gallandros. It had been nearly two weeks since Hillodania had last fought him, and she kept going over that battle in her head over and over, analyzing the events for any detail that might turn the odds in her favor. But each half-formulated idea crumbled as the issue of his inhuman speed kept cropping up. {Argh, I hit him once, but that's the only time I got him! He just keeps coming and coming . . . How can I capture or kill a man that strikes like the wind? What I need is something that would allow me to exploit that one strike . . . but what?} she thought to herself as she swayed slightly in the breeze, her auburn hair flowing freely over her shoulders.  
  
Eventually, she gave up thinking and let her mind drift, her ears catching the chatter of the busy marketplace below her feet. But one merchant's cry held her ear longer than the others . . . "Poisons for sale! Add a little extra unexpected bite to your dagger or spear! They'll never see it coming! For the enterprising rogue or warrior, but you need a rogue to apply them, you can't forget that! All it takes is one hit and their world will never be the same!" Then it hit her harder than a drunken ogre warrior after a few dozen ales . . . she could cut Gallandros down to size by reducing his speed with poison! As a rogue, it was perfect! She knew from painful experience that he didn't bother with coating his daggers with any, counting on his lightning draw to kill any enemy. If she could hit him just once . . . then the poison would take effect and she could finally nail him.  
  
She leapt down from the pole and hurried over to a hut where a bored- looking dwarf in chain-mail called from where he leaned against the door- frame. "Have you got anything that will reduce an enemy's movement or attacking speed?" she asked excitedly, nearly panting from her effort of getting down there that quickly. The dwarven rogue blinked, as the arrival of his perhaps only patron was entirely unexpected. But as her question sank in, he shook his head and replied, "Lass, A' only have th' components fer makin' th' most basic of poison's, if ye wannnae get sooch a complicated serum, then ye'll have tae search for 'em yerself!" As her face fell, he studied her looks for a while, hemming and hawing, and finally, his reluctance melted as his gruffness could not stand before a girl with such looks, and explained, "Look, A'm sure ye have no bloody idea where t'begin t'get such things, especially since A' dinnae give ye a recipe or even the location of each item! Ye'll have to train in th' skill tae first make the ruddy poison, then t'apply it. It'll take a woile, so dinnae be expectin' to be done with this tomorra!" He took out a fresh piece of parchment and scratched out a list of items for three separate poisons, along with the name of the place to get them. "Before ye go, ye'll probably need hundreds of these bloody things 'ere . . . " he said, waving to a couple cases of vials setting inside the hut. Hillodania grimaced, but took out her purse nonetheless.  
  
Many days later . . .  
  
"I never want to see another spider or snake as long as I live . . . " Hillodania muttered as she closed the seal on the last of many vials, finally done. It had taken her ages, but she was close to mastering the nearly forgotten skill, in fact, the trainer in the outpost almost laughed at her when she said she wanted to begin practicing it, telling her that every rogue tried it, but gave up after a few tries, but she had the resources for it, and had stuck with it. A well-used mortar and pestle sat on the table next to her, and stacks of poison vials littered the table and floor. Most of the lesser ones she would sell, but she was planning on keeping many. She lifted one vial up to her face and smiled tiredly at the contents. Lethargic Bliss. Though trivial to further her skill now, it was going to be her ace in the hole, with it, she would cut Gallandros' speed in half. Just then the door opened, and Mmya walked in, carrying a tray of food. "You missed dinner again; honestly girl, what are you doing that would cause you to not hear me calling a few hundred times?" the Erudite grumbled, clearing off a place to set the food down. "Well, with what I've been touching, I doubt I'd want to get anywhere near food without washing my hands thoroughly," Hillodania replied, only half jokingly. As the wood elf stood up and went over to a wash basin and began scouring her hands with soap and a rough wash brush, it dawned upon the wizard what her young friend was going to try. "You really think this'll help?" she asked quietly, not having to say out loud what she meant, or what she thought about her plan. "Of course . . . "  
  
Following the instructions given to her a few weeks before, well-honed by this time, Hillodania carefully coated her daggers with the volatile poison, being careful not to let the blades get too sticky, or too dull. The trick was to get just enough on so that it would take effect immediately upon the blade piercing the skin, but not so much that it would coat the edge, making it not penetrate correctly, or to cause it to stick in it's sheath. This done, she walked out the front door, breaking into a run as she cleared the crowd. Though she didn't know where she would find him, she was ready to face Gallandros once more. The scar on her ribs demanded as much. She was running along the river heading towards the lake, when she heard a rapid but quiet pounding noise coming up on her side. Not willing to take the chance it was a friendly druid or shaman passing through, she jumped aside just as two throwing daggers lanced through the air her back had occupied just a few seconds before. "Lookin' for someone, darlin'? Well, you didn't find me, I found you!" a familiar voice drawled, as she whipped into a ready position. Gallandros was pulling his daggers from his belt with his usual flashy confidence, but there was a look of determination on his face, and . . . anger?  
  
{This is it . . . } Hillodania thought to herself as she readied her own blades. A quick look around revealed the most dangerous possible fighting environment possible. Fallen pillars, menhirs, the river, and trees, many roaming Drachnids . . . all would provide barriers and obstacles to trip her up. Unless she could use these to her advantage, this could end very quickly, and very, very messily. Soon, she didn't have time to think, as the human man burst forwards. Fresh without having to travel as far as last time, she had far more energy, which she chose to devote almost entirely to her 'luck'. As it stood, it was the only thing keeping those flashing silver edges from her throat. She dashed through the dark forest's trees indiscriminately, trying to keep an eye on her pursuer. Occasionally a dagger would flash out of the darkness, and she would have to parry, but no sooner had that slowed her down when two more would lunge out to try and catch a piece of her. Tiring, she saw a coastline, and made for it, knowing that if she could only see him, she might have a chance. Putting on a burst of speed, she handspringed up to the top of a fallen pillar. Gallandros was right behind her, but as he bounded up, something unexpected occurred. As he landed on the ridged surface, the ancient stone under his left foot broke and he stumbled backwards.  
  
{NOW!!!} With that thought, she drove her dagger forwards, and it plunged with a satisfying thunk into his leg. Cursing, he staggered backwards, and after shaking his head a few times, he burst forwards again with the same exact speed as before! {It didn't work?} she thought in a panic, trying to dodge between the pillars as she dodged backwards. But as they dashed into an abandoned ruin, she found his blows coming slower . . . and slower . . . until they were no faster than any other rogue's she had encountered. And his legs moved painstakingly slow, the poison plus his injury slowing him to a crawl. He was still quick, but now they were on the same level. Gold flecks flashing across her eyes, she finally laid into him with all her strength. Though he had chosen quick blades, hers did slightly more damage, and with a burst of magic, the effects of her stiletto and dirk activated, slowing him even further, while causing him to wince from the damage over time spell. But just as she thought she was winning, Gallandros' eyes flashed and without warning his speed leapt back up to normal, and he shoved her backwards onto the sand. She scrabbled backwards, unprepared for this event, and he pinned her to the ground, pulling her daggers from her.  
  
Keeping one large foot on her ample chest, he experimentally sniffed her blade, and smirked as his suspicions were confirmed. "Clever, babe, but it'll take more than a little poison to take me out! The particular stuff you used, in fact, barely lasts more than a few minutes!" Hillodania gasped as she realized she hadn't bothered to ask the dwarf about the duration of the poison. She had assumed it would last at least long enough to take his head, but this was a deadly miscalculation. "Let's see how you take it, shall we?" he asked, and reversed her dirk, holding it directly over her heart. No matter how she squirmed, he was too heavy, she couldn't get out from under him. Though she was sure she could handle the poison, she couldn't survive a stab to the heart! But even as he raised his arm, she heard something she never expected to hear, but her heart jumped in hope at hearing. "Halt, villain! For all of Feir'Dal!" It was the guards! Their battle had not taken them to the cliffs as she had feared, but right to the gates of Firiona Vie! "Oh crap . . . " Gallandros muttered, and turned to leave, but as he tried to run, the guards caught up to him and smashed him over the head with their swords and shields. Though he had hidden it well, he had been closer to failure than he realized, as his lightning dash had been slowed by the punishment Hillodania had dealt to him in those brief moments.  
  
"You'll still give me the reward?" Hillodania said incredulously, sitting in the sheriff's office, scratching at a minor scab that had been ignored by Joken as he healed her wounds at the house earlier. "Well, yes. If you hadn't managed to lure him that close to the outpost, we'd have never have caught the bastard! It's funny though . . . for all his bluster, he's never actually killed anybody . . . " the sheriff said, turning away from the bags of money sitting on his desk to look out the building's window. "Say what?!?!" Hillodania gasped, staring at the other wood elf's back. "Well, he may have, but so far, we've gathered from witness accounts, he never does the deed himself, preferring to let them get mauled by a wandering monster; his odd sort of 'bandit honor' makes him give them a fighting chance to make it to safety, not that they ever do. Still, I think we can chalk it up to manslaughter in any case . . . you should feel honored that he was willing to make you his first murder victim!" he said jokingly, but Hillodania didn't hear him. "Never killed anyone? But why was there that price on his head? And why would he want to kill me, if he never did it directly to anyone else? Was he set up?" she asked, half to herself, but the sheriff's eyes tightened, and he waved distantly, and remarked quietly, "Take the money and go. Your job is done here."  
  
After the banker waved goodbye, it was Hillodania's turn to gaze at the sky as she walked along. Why had Gallandros been wanted that badly? Why go to all that effort to capture him? Had she risked her life for some sort of farce just to get rid of a powerful rival to the guards? These and many other thoughts filled her head, and she didn't realize she was home until she placed her hand on the doorknob. But as she pushed the door in, she began to realize just how filthy and sweaty she had gotten in her duel of the speed demons. " . . . I need a bath . . . " she groaned.  
  
It was not usually fun drawing water to take a bath, but having an eight- foot tall barbarian to carry the buckets and a wizard to heat the water, it was not long before Hillodania was able to settle in after scrubbing herself clean. As she relaxed in the hot water, letting the heat work out the sore muscles and aching tendons, the thoughts she had come up with earlier in the day returned to her. The more she thought about Gallandros, the more he didn't make sense to her. Why would he be charged with murder if he never killed anyone? Just what had he done to warrant such a huge reward if murder wasn't the reason? And why would they put up a reward poster rather than search for him themselves? The guards were better equipped, knew the area well, and were more experienced. At the moment she had no answers, but she did know that if she asked the sheriff again, he would either blow her off or make up some reason. The only way she could possibly find out the real reason would be to break into the cell block and talk to Gallandros himself. {Yeah, right . . . Chit-chat with a man who wants me dead? Still . . . its better than having to listen to the floorboards groaning and cracking every time Ursus turns over in his sleep . . . } she thought to herself, running her hands through her wet hair.  
  
{What am I doing here?} Hillodania asked herself mentally as she crouched on the roof of the makeshift prison. Of course, she already knew the answer to that question, why else would she be leaping silently to the ground and dashing inside if she did not intend to be there, to interrogate the man she had helped bring in not ten hours ago? It was midnight, the witching hour, but there was still a solitary guard on watch at all times near the cells, along with the graveyard shift of guards patrolling the paths, but they would retire anyways in a few minutes. Getting in was no problem, though she'd have to blend into the shadows to get back out again without being spotted. Piece of cake . . . but you never knew when you'd encounter a guard that had a 'see invisible' spell or effect on them. Once she was certain she wasn't going to be spotted, she reappeared, but kept silent, and slunk past the few empty cells to the only one that was actually occupied. Gallandros appeared to be sleeping, but Hillodania wasn't fooled. Few rogues slept this early, unless they were sure they were safe. Only nuts would be out past three in the morning, unless they were on a long heist, but even then, that was pushing it. Sure enough, as she drew nearer to the bars, she heard him whisper, "Cute, kid, come to make fun of me? Or filch my personal affects?"  
  
She had thought she was prepared for what she would do if she found him alert, but he still managed to shock her. She struggled for a moment to come up with a response, but finally she shot back, "What, not 'babe' or 'darlin'?" Gallandros' eyes came open in a glare and he stared at her for a while before muttering, "Get lost, kid, you got lucky, nothin' to brag about, be years before you're able to beat me in a straight fight." Frustrated, she shook her head and put her face dangerously close to the bars, and replied, "That's not why I'm here . . . I'm here to ask you why those sheriffs wanted you captured so badly." Gallandros lowered his arms where they had been resting on his chest. "You saw the poster, you know why," he told her, but something in his voice sounded uncertain. "Uh uh, I want to hear your version of the story. So tell me . . . just what did you do to become worth three grand?" The human man grumbled under his breath, but with her sharp hearing, she was able to pick out, " . . . wouldn't believe me anyway..." So she said, "Try me, I just want to know." In a split second, Gallandros' face was right in front of hers, causing her to rear back. "Ya promise not to dismiss it right away or laugh it off if I tell ya?" he asked, his eyes wild, as if he had been holding this story in for ages. She was half ready to just refuse and walk away, but she stayed, because his urgency didn't sound like his story was an embarrassing one . . . in fact, he sounded worried, almost frantic. So she nodded, without saying anything.  
  
In a rush, a flood of words tumbled out of his mouth . . . "It all started just a few months after I got here, not more than a month ago. It was before all of you guys started showing up, which now that I look back on it, was probably a mistake, as its not good for the guards to know what your face looks like . . . if you're a rogue that is. Anyway . . . I had to lay low for a while, get them used to seeing me around, so they wouldn't get suspicious. I also figured that if things got ugly, I could simply hop on the next ship back. But things didn't work out that way. The night I finally decided was right for a heist was the night when it all changed. I had just completed checking one house, finding nothing of worth, when I heard an odd sound. I still can't describe it, I'll have to try later. I thought it was the guards, so I hid for a bit. But there was nobody out on the streets except for what appeared to be this old guy, shuffling along. However, this geezer was shufflin' awfully quick. At first, I thought he was running from something, but he was heading right for me, even though I was invisible at the moment. He was also dragging along a sack of somethin' . . . which I think was gems and jewelry, because I saw a gold necklace dangling out. Anyways, he was right up close where I could get a good look at him in a half minute.  
  
This is where it gets weird . . . I thought at first that his face had been obscured by shadow at a distance, but I saw that it was pitch black, as if it was carved from black stone, or painted with some kinda oil . . . Also, his eyes were closed, but he seemed to have no trouble getting along. The old freak had slowed down by then, to where he was only a few feet away from me when he stopped. Though nobody can see with their eyes closed, I knew he could see me . . . I was getting ready to run when his eyes popped open! They were yellow and glowing, like some kinda insect's eyes, nasty stuff! Before I knew it, grandpa there lunged forwards and tried to bite me! He had teeth, black as his face, but he also had these weird kinda mandible thingies, like you'd see on an ant. I managed to get aside of course, but he tried again and again, making a lot of ruckus. I needed to get out before I got caught, so I showed this freak my super-deluxe fast- draw. Poppy goes down, but he staggers to his feet again in a heartbeat! This time, instead of trying to gnaw on me, he suddenly gets his youth back and headbutts me in the arm almost faster than I could have! This seemed to exhaust him, as he collapsed to the ground and started twitching. My arm was burning, but before I could run, a window flew open and this woman looks right at me, then sees the body of the freak lying there. She shrieks, and I'm on the run.  
  
I later found out that they found the freak's bag of riches and assumed it was mine . . . and they also found his body . . . though here's the thing, it was missing the head! They think I cut it off . . . but I only slashed him across the chest! It wasn't long before that poster went up. I tried to resort to my original plan to escape on the next boat, but every time I tried, this weird black insect thing would appear out of nowhere and start chasing me every time I got close to Firiona Vie. It looks like nothing else I've seen . . . like some kinda monster caterpillar, with a couple dozen legs, and quick as all hell. I can always tell its coming too, because every so often it makes that same odd sound I heard that first night."  
  
Hillodania pursed her lips and thought on what he was saying. Sure, it sounded ridiculous, but he should have been able to get out of the city easily, even in broad daylight, unless he was being chased by this odd speed bug who could apparently even see him when he was hidden. Still, she was skeptical. "Are you sure you didn't kill him? There have been eyewitnesses . . . " she began, but he replied tiredly, "Kid, I'm a thief, always have been. My quick draw was something I developed in case I got caught, but I never wanted to kill anyone, the guys I dueled just weren't lucky, unlike you." "Still . . . " she murmured, but she happened to glance out the window, and noticed it was getting on in the night . . . the moonlight was cascading down onto the outpost, bathing everything in a faint silver light. She turned back and asked what she hoped would be your final question, "So, this bug of yours, are you sure it isn't just some odd Drachnid?" He violently shook his head, and responded, "No it ain't! It's smaller than a man . . . and that sound it makes...its not quite a chirp, not really a screech, it sounds kinda like . . . " Chkthkatikachaaaaaw!!!!" That."  
  
Gallandros started to shake the bars lightly, and begged, "Get me outta here! I can show you it, prove it's real, but you've gotta let me out! At least then I can run from it, I promise I won't do anything . . . . . . please!" "All right . . . quiet down . . . I know I'm going to regret this . . . " Hillodania muttered as she took out her lockpicks and undid the latch on his cell. In a flash, Gallandros was over at the box with his belongings and was suiting up. Soon, she found herself peering around a corner with Gallandros right behind her. Her heart was beating a mile a minute, she didn't trust him being this close, but she couldn't deny that she had heard that otherworldly screech. But after a minute of searching, they hadn't found anything, and she was starting to doubt her actions when Gallandros' hand tightened on her shoulder like a vise as he pointed off to her side. There, she could see something long, black, and shiny slithering out of a house's window. At first she thought it was a snake, moonlight shining off its scales, but she could see the many small but powerful legs working as it carried the segmented body to the ground. It was the creature Gallandros had mentioned, but it was weirder than fiction seeing it for real. With a shock, she saw instead of an insectlike head, it had a blank, featureless human head with small antennae erupting out of its forehead. Also, clutched in its first few sets of legs were various coins and pieces of jewelry. She remembered that a few kinds of insects collected shiny things, but what it did next was nothing she expected. Though she couldn't see a mouth earlier, one opened up and it fed the gold and jewels right into the black slit, as it had no lips, and no teeth she could see.  
  
As she looked closer, she could see something on its forehead in between the two antennae. An odd sigil, a circle containing a hexagon made up of seven triangles. Most of it looked almost carved, as if etched into stone, but the central triangle was a dark crystal, that almost seemed to glow faintly. "Why's it . . . eating those?" she asked softly. "Don't have a clue . . . when I was a kid I'd swallow the odd coin or gem to filch them, but if you get a piece too large or jagged, it'd tear up your insides," Gallandros replied, his daggers in his hands. They didn't have much time to contemplate this odd behavior, because the bug's blank eyes turned their way and it gave a low chitter. The human rogue's breath caught in his throat and he started to back up, but even as he took his first step, two yellow slits opened in the bug's head, and two black mandibles unfurled from the mouth and it surged forwards with blinding speed! Hillodania tried to get her own daggers out, but it ran right past her to attack Gallandros. Their movements became a blur as Gallandros tried to get away and dodge, rather than attacking, but the bug seemed to be even faster than him! Hillodania went a different way, trying to find a different angle to attack the creature at, but the two figures were racing about all over town, she could barely get a bead on them.  
  
After futilely chasing them for a few minutes, she crouched up against a wall, deciding to wait until they came her way again. She carefully peered around the corner, and saw no movement, save for the distant waving of the trees. Without warning, a hand fell on her shoulder, and she nearly shrieked. "I . . . think . . . I . . . I think I lost it," Gallandros panted. His armor was all torn up and bloody, and one of his daggers was missing. His eyes darted every which way, looking for some hint of the demonic insect. But something besides his disheveled state caught her eye. On his arm was the exact same sigil as on the bug's 'head'. "What's that thing on your arm, it looks like . . . " she began, but he answered quickly without looking at her. "Don't know and don't care. That's the burn mark from where the damned thing got me when I first encountered it. Somehow, that old geezer and this bug are the same thing." {What if they are the same?} she wondered, but before she could say anything else, they saw the creature bearing down on them.  
  
"Run, kid! Get out into the forest and to the river, it won't follow over water, don't try to swim though!" he yelled over his shoulder as he attacked the bug. She didn't want to leave him to fight it alone, but this was way out of her league. She was best taking his advice. As she ran off, Gallandros gave it his all, and finally penetrated through the bug's quicksilver parries and managed to slash and pierce it dozens of times. With a pathetic squeak, the bug sagged to the ground, and started twitching slowly. This was what the 'old man' had done the first time he injured it, so he wasn't convinced it was dead yet. He crept up slowly, and tapped it with his foot, drawing it back quickly, but it didn't move. He calmed down slightly, until he saw something that made his blood run cold. The wounds on the bug's body, where a thick black ichor was seeping out were sealing themselves back up, slowly but surely. He lifted his knife to stab it in the head, but his hand stopped and his mouth dropped open at what he saw. The thing's face was changing, bulging, features forming. It only took a few seconds, but a replica of his face was duplicated. "What the . . . ?" he muttered, staring at the odd sight. As the final pierce wound faded, the thing slowly raised its head, and its copy of his mouth 'grinned'. And then it moved. Gallandros didn't even have time to scream. 


End file.
